|
As the Roof Leaks |
Ghosts over the ocean,
black clouds rolling
in with gray fog.
Sugar ants, mosquito hawks,
scarab beetles move inside.
Earthworms litter
the shining sidewalks
at dawn.
On La Brea, wide-brimmed
black hats are covered
in plastic for the walk
to temple. Gutters abdicate
their water to the street.
Rain briefly justifies
this desert’s verdant green.
Every night Orion’s belt
moves further west. Stains
spread on the ceiling.
I do as little as possible,
move as if unexpectedly
barefoot on broken glass,
harboring my bandages
for the deeper cuts of spring.
copyright 2007
Ryan
Tranquilla |
