Haiku 15
The ambulance man he sees me, my northbound bus, then runs to the west.
Gasoline can, spilled then righted, five yards away sunny-hot pavement.
Yes, Lloyd Building, Yes, Int’nl Teriyaki, Stay, feeble sunshine!
Five pigeons, rooftop one does a dance while the rest perch, vigilant.
Does anybody think, of this old bench, and its conversation husks?
“I can’t stand the rain”– or, for today’s purposes the gaps in the rain
The engine surges as it drives the pavement saw 9 am Saturday
Spider, seventh floor spun its web in a recess what makes its dinner?
A hard grind ahead but I’m lying on my back grateful for no rain.
Waterspout, column a leak from the overpass white gold from the sun
The washerwoman’s cry in her sleep: “She flies!” …her sole indulgence
“Where are you going?” He just makes a fishy face and doesn’t answer
One horrible week the library’s north window it’s Sunday again.
Piebald fireplug flaking yellow over over green shorter than the weeds.
I punched myself in the head, last week, both sides still tender, still sore.
The boy waits his turn, with a smaller boy, plastic one wears a red cap.
In the heat I smell the man knitting a green hat has not washed today.