Roger Abe

on a muddy bank
bird footsteps disappear
into the water
so many night lights for
sleeping garden stones
craving the first taste
I misunderstand the worth
of pickled radish
absent-eyed the cat
pushes, pushes on the bedding
far cries of wild geese
feel them strike and trill
the circling playground sprinklers
the steel fence, the moon
no confusion—
the passion fruit grow plump
when watered
at the river’s edge
I name my fluttering soul—
broad-winged damselfly
winter willow—
your leaves pointing the way
of everything
all night winter rain
pitter-patters in my sleep
I awake, fluent
caressing my cheek
my cat pretends
he’s a cherry blossom

All poems copyright by Roger Abe. They may not be used for any purpose without explicit permission.

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