Two Octets

mississippi ave octet

(1/18/17)

scattered wishes dangle from hornbeam branches,

violet, yellow, scarlet tags in this rain—

rack of dresses on wheels under the boutique’s

awning responds in kind; notice how toy store

fairy lights sparkle with keener points through gray

wet air, the bar’s single picnic table washed

glassy; in planters outside a shop, jasmine

climbs toward the lintel, green leaves glistening

◦           ◦            ◦

failing st pedestrian bridge octet

(1/18/17)

lilacs with tawny winter buds sprout along

concrete steps that just now stream melting ice &

rain splash—within the bridge’s curved chain link, one

padlock, clasped, rusted, rests against a rail, no

names marked on it—below, I-5 traffic’s hiss;

above, unilluminated light towers—

on the west side, a flock of robins shifts from

red oaks with decrepit leaves to shaggy pines 

Jack Hayes

© 2017