Winterkill All the mayflies drop and dry now. Lighter than the water they become Feathery petrified skeletons, tasteless Like time and the neglect of a graveyard. Where no one in Neptune's lost army Will hurry to eat their blurry souls. ******************* Midwest Nocturne She whispered, under the rain "Whose wind chimes are those?" Out by the goatsbeard where the last of the snow retreats I whispered, "sounds oriental" Kabuki on a transistor radio "Why did the Buddha lose his head?" "Probably the long winter, honey." "It's so quiet tonight, not a breath" I wrapped my arm close around her. ******************** Two Island Lake The light danced across the lake. Reflections blurred from a wisp of wind. The urge to reach around and grab my glass or the sweet cheroot, or just watch the water focus the pearled star of Andromeda's hand. ********************* Where is my harmonica? I always try to break some thing when I play guitar; a pick, a string, a feeling or the asshole at the bar. Some dirty nasty cigarette picked up off of the floor, cheap overhead and gratis drinks I never could ignore. ********************** St. Mary's The beep and whir of sputtering medicines manic desire to please while admitting defeat. Hushed sadness incandescent along florescent hallways scuffed by wheels and shuffling Sunday souls. In the basement, people take coffee as the laundry chutes fill with borrowed shrouds. The young won't imagine this sorry antiseptic end to this whispered finale, their neglected parade.