Today's poem is by Austin Straus


Red/yellow/purple petals
headline the grass.

Several witty columns tossed off
by trees.

Weather reports itself smogless
after morning haze retreats.

Sports section: ants and flies
vie for first.

Obituaries: many dried up worms, dead dog
on the freeway, a few smashed possums and
a dilatory pigeon.

Forecast: more browned leaves, buckled sidewalks,
unexplained thumpings under the roof.

Fire in the hills, flu bug
in the air vents.

Tufts of life cling to brick,
all the little dyings
bathed in light.

Business report: erratic fluctuations
in the market for dreams.

The eternal, slow motion flux
and reflux of things.

I breathe, I see, I stumble between lines.
I'm still part of what's happening.

Copyright © 2010 Austin Straus All rights reserved
from Intensifications
Red Hen Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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