Daydreams

Tonight we stacked the cut wood in a pile,
Akimbo, tiered, boy scout style,
Wrapped last night's failures in the Post
And saved the logs we cherished most

For last, beefing up the light with rhymes
From the entertainment section of the Times.
Light verse, our favorites burn low
And summon up a scent of willow

In the spring, vines slung coyly on the pond
Like a nonchalantly lowered frond
Come to rest near a callous girl's young
Wrist, a hardened blossom sprung

From soft philanthropies of breeze
And sun, so that now a legacy of tree's
Long arm cracks and settles on the bricks,
A conspiracy of single sticks

That hover like a forest over water
And, all at once, disintegrate in order,
That band together on the night's blond tip
And shape the room with shining lips.

December 6th, 2004, Bedford