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POTPOURRIBILL, GUY, AND ED
Friendship surrounds, envelops, directs
attention to the calm day with little wisps
of fog and only a suggestion of clouds,
not anything that could bring a storm
to spoil a bicycle ride beside the sea.

Sometimes there is no explanation
for beauty... beauty which imposes itself
on all the senses at once deleting all
suggestions that somewhere there is war,
that underneath a bridge somewhere
someone is crying alone, forsaken
by the one in whom hope was invested,
and in a dark closet somewhere a child
is hiding and hurting from having been beaten.

We ride single file sometimes
side by side enjoying fellowship
grateful that things are good for us
if someone asks but mostly we don’t
notice our good fortune and only later
maybe we remember to remember.

SALT WORKS
THE EPIPHYLLUM BLOOMS SPECTACULARLY A SECOND TIME THIS YEAR...