Below are the remains of a dead bird. I believe Mama Robin was defending her brood and killed the intruder.
Below are Neighborhood Pals.
TRAFFICANA
Traffic snarls
tied up the road.
Round here "Bear
Boulevard" jammed our
roads for nearly
a mile.
Bear Road, I explained
to my taxman, my motorman,
my automotive man,
is named after the
Golden Bears team at
our high school.
Big yellow paw prints
line the driveway to
the high school as
vehicles cruise
slowly, radios on,
conversations on,
what dyou spose they
think now of the Jersey
govnor? Not much, not
much.
*
SWIMMING WITH EILEEN
Could I pull this off?
Brought my lunch salad
and left-over carrot pudding
next door. We sat outside
on the deck. Huge glass of
water with ice tickling
the sides.
A widow in a purple swim suit
her hair growing out, she led
me in measured steps to the
lapping blue pool that made
my heart break with love.
I so love to swim!
We sat on the steps of the pool
the cool pool
summoning our nerve
She would not go in. She made
sure her kids could swim, but
fear surrounded her like a
runaway automobile coming
to get her.
I looked at her thin face and
blue eyes. "Go ahead," she said.
In I dove and the philosophy of
the swim hit me smack in my face.
The sense of belonging, of being
on my own, of needing no one,
nothing, just my small mermaid
body and breathing apparatus.
We sat in lounge chairs soaking
up the sun, sipping on tall
blue plastic cups, sucking
the ice.
"If you hadn't come over," she said,
"I'd never have gone in."
They wanted me! They wanted me!
"I shall return," I promised.
As I walked in my clogs back home
the five baby robins in the hanging
basket on the porch, received their
evening meal from both Mom and Dad.
We did that too, back in Cleveland.
Pizza from Little Italy and
red soda-pop.
Burp!
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