Back in California. Rain! Poem! I present for your commentary my first blogged work-in-progress:


LYCEUM IN RUINS

"A sense of doom informs the lynx."

Weeds, schist, an Artesian well:
élan in "a heavenly forge."

    Turn back.

There is a human hand here
below the crumbling parapet.

    Step on.

A floe (with seniors) leads to the cairn,
to the sniffling goat.

    Collapse.

The crotch of time, a bridge
between catapults.

    Collapse.

My reliquary brims over:
laurels in agar, a bag of drowned targets.