ELEGY IN A PUDDLE



Not being here, he can’t see

this inky portrait of a tree,

much less the tree against the sky

which is the limit of the eye,



reminding us that the cost

of Paradise is that it’s lost.

While Heaven fitted in a puddle

like a ship is His rebuttal.

MORE WEIGHT



We shrug at shade like wind or fog, though in autumn

gusts of paper-shuffling in lofty offices

will roil a lawn like God’s face on the waters.

True, these don’t shake the thrones of thickened things —

a banker’s manse sprawled on its throne of lawn,

where heavy elms warn lovers to move on.

They’ll fall in time the way all despots fall:

first the midget in his braided tunic,

then his statue toppled with a rope.

And though we’d rather have an apple than

the apple’s shadow, it’s not wrong to think

how clouds as vast as ranches sadden Kansas.