Four Octets on the Way to the Solstice

(6/20/17)

1. Williams Ave Morning

the cartoon bee on the shop sign seems to fly

smiling into white birches, satisfied to

never land—katsura branches reach higher

than 10:30 sun, but its light penetrates

leaf skin on the verge of translucence, veined green

hearts—multi-dimensional curve & swirl of

black plum flattened to silhouette on pale green

fabric of a picnic table umbrella

◦

2. 7th Ave Noon

the Japanese maple’s parasol: spring green

below, maroon up top; white pickup truck

in the driveway matches two calla lilies

by the house, at least in some sense; vanilla,

strawberry, chocolate balloons swirl on that

sandwich board’s ribbon as noon sun emerges

to cast the invisible robin’s shadow,

the one singing from the invisible tree

◦

3. Glisan St Afternoon

near the bus stop the sidewalk’s strewn green with grass

a weed-whacker scattered there; elsewhere sharp black

angles of street signs, the power lines’ scalloped

edges criss-cross concrete; it’s different in

the sky: cotton rags of the cumulus clouds,

the poor at heart at the fringe of the high blue—

bamboo stands up in galvanized tubs above

barbed wire strands into irresistible light

◦

4. Mississippi Ave Evening

at Beech St the sun has dropped below that brick

building, just the magnolia’s top boughs glow;

half a block north, white light halo envelopes

the ash tree,  blinding inflorescence of rays

intersects power lines; bus stop sign bends its

half-circle shadow up a plate glass door; my

shadow stretches past golden bamboo east to

the red metal bench where I saw us talking

Jack Hayes

© 2017