Haiku 17

I place four fingers to my breast beside my heart Coltrane touches here

In the room, though not for a long time, the kettle on to boil.

He dies quietly the clamor of before, stilled one ring on his hand.

Putting on Brubeck, lying back waiting to die one whole year passes

These socks I have now should last a good while; only a handful of holes

Two old men toe-to-toe one snores, head tipped back, mouth open one takes in the news.

Kindergarten boy waist-high to his mother’s hug edge of the playfield.

Electric fan drones rain splatters the night outside I find sleep in between

I see seven miles to the north, to the water the Naval Station

Deep-nosed exhale–sob, I think; the parade-goers take no notice

I’ve tried all the things, I’ve said, alcohol to Jah, the sting still sits in

Cord pulled tight over storm windows on the truck’s side the bus shambles south

Boy in green jacket testing his spring against the train and happy to lose

That sunshine glow spreads as the northbound train pull in… it’s only one light.

Like anything else I eventually stop but not on this day

He makes a peace sign at the D Line pulling out five orchids in hand

She’s talking to God or to something in the sky keeping it civil.

A balancing act two fat crows on thin branches watch Convention Place.