it's the weather -
7 days straight of determined sun
and just a little cloud.

Maybe it's the thought of August without work
doing little but kissing the wife and the boy
and speculatively scratching various elements of my person
amongst the insects and flowers of the garden.

Maybe it's the hope that hope will hold
that what we deserve in the end will come to us
and there'll be no kick in the teeth this time.

Maybe it's the cycle of things
and that while nothing gold can stay
no shit
can stink forever.

Maybe it's just this last cold beer before bed
but I can't seem to summon
a flailing misanthropy like
I used to.

Perhaps
I'm becoming the man
my folks always hoped for
but never really believed
would walk in.

Out in the front yard two doors down
the harpy who shouts at her dogs
has a big fat smile
and life in her steps

as if she had somehow remembered
that sometimes
there is
magic.
Photo--
"Washington, D.C. Elementary school girls dancing a ballet"
Vachon, John, 1914-1975, photographer.
Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division,
FSA/OWI Collection, [reproduction number,
LC-USW3-028021-C]
Main Menu