Two poems


Sonoma

light rotates

morning to noon

olive branches sway

meatheads in the pool

drink vodka lemonade

bees work the lavender

the wind drops

American flags

shrug and go limp

children wrinkle

in chlorine

summer moves on

super-moon rises

over rows of grape vines

sign of a good year

Milos

I put my wife and boys

on a boat off a southern beach

my stomach is no good on boats

the wind was down

the sea flat and green

Later, the wind rose

a single bell tolled

from the Byzantine tower

cicadas sawed from a

bent eucalyptus

in the church square

but I don’t believe in omens

Tonig