Looking
for My Dog
If not for moonlight
I too would be lost.
Cricket song,
the whine
of a troubled cat
push me along
through a flock
of apple trees
munching on
the darkness,
swaddling my breath
with sugar.
A Moment at a Jersey Diner
At the counter, men hunch
over sandwiches and fries,
pan their coffee for gold.
A young waitress flits from table
to table like a hummingbird.
She sups at each flower,
vanishes in a fog of voices.
Copyright © 2006 S. Thomas Summers
