We returned a pigeon to the sky
where he belongs this morning.
Otherwise, it’s a quiet day
if we ignore the news
of the nuclear mouthed supreme
leader watching oriental snow
fall through his binoculars.
There’s fresh snow too
in the country we left behind
where spring comes in disguise.
Is it caused by climate change
or was the past like this
and we simply forgot?
It’s ninety degrees today
in Arizona, where the legislature
wants to take away civil unions
and give schoolteachers guns.
The mailman delivered only
the usual requests for money
while the same message keeps landing
in the electronic inbox
from a friend whose mind
we hear is becoming like snow
and melting away. What use
is information to her, from radio
or the press? Why bother
telling her the world she tried to improve
is refusing assistance? It’s better to reply
with a few words to say
how gently the afternoon has passed
and hold on to whatever peace
is ours to share.
David Chorlton
has lived in Phoenix since 1978, and still sees his surroundings with
an outsider's eye. This helps his writing projects, which include a new
poetry collection, "The Devil's Sonata," from FutureCycle Press.
