Poem Written After Sunset Looking East While Standing on the Bank of Weesuck Creek

Perched for

Another beatitude

Or two on the edge

Of the guard rail

At the ass end of our street

Reality takes on

Its ink stained aspect

The dim ripples demonstrate

Time stretching out

Towards the horizon

A heron settles on its nest

A dog barks nearby

Ready for supper and 
While the mind expatiates
There's darkness
For all the rest