9-19-20

The silence will last only
a few minutes more—
I have to make the most of it.

I am at the Coast, in the house,
missing the sunset.
I can see the rosy glow
tinting the edges 
of the tall, decorative grasses 
on the neighbors’ property.

The stillness of the tire swing in the yard
isn’t sad or ominous
because I know there’s a child
frolicking in the slanting light,
legs kicking through white surf,
and she will be home soon.

Silence like this is best served
as a brief interlude
between riotous bursts
of non-stop action.

It means more when
the need to plumb the desires
of our top market segment
diminish into the haze
of yet-to-come Mondays—
whereupon I might fail
to delight—
but that day is not today.

I am not famous. Everyone
is not devastated by
my unavoidable genius.
Probably, they never will be.

A supreme court justice we were relying on
to keep the tide from swallowing our hope
is dead
and maybe the kind of justice
I think our democracy should crave
is going on extended hiatus
and we are in for a longer,
darker night than we feared,
even as recently as yesterday.

But—

Right now is a silence
in between moments
in a chain of seemingly inexhaustible
turbulence
and I will enjoy it for as long as
the wine and
the obscure sunset last.

---