What havoc!

even the winds and seas are in revolt

in this best of all possible worlds


where peace is only possible in intimacy

cultivate your own garden


accept what is

in quietude wait


wait till the scorpions

smug in their power


prompted by dismal realities



Even goldfinches war

beak to beak in flight


despite June’s bright dalliance

among needles of the Northern pine



shelled sunflower seed    


a flutter away from a cracked ceramic fountain

with its pretense of permanence


How brief

their overcrowding


a single female   a nibble or two

another hovers   wildly flapping


flapping   no tomorrow

                        no tomorrow 


Safe here after their flight

eerie New York


downtown   no one 

stores boarded up   grafiti   


at the park ambulances waiting 

    white sheets    



at sea in a small boat   an arcing

enormous wave