Saturday, January 31, 2009

Friday Nine to Fiver

To pull crumpled straw fedoras
Dented crowns, bent brims
Out of mom’s closet, from under the couch
And never find my hat

To find a constellation of nickels and dimes
(No quarters, alas)
Scattered on a marble slab
At the lunch hour riverside

To see Jupiter and Diana
Mighty lord, pale huntress
Drawn together in the evening blue
As we walk from the train