in the twilight when everything
is more or less gray
the ambiguous field
of horses nuzzling
each other in the fog

free admission
to the pond
this memorial day weekend
the deep notes
of bullfrogs

as though
it remembered
how the last wave felt
the lean of a boat
against the beach

rain briefly stopping
the flow of heat
one leg of the rainbow
arches over
the firehouse

from an era
when it was harder
to cover up your mistakes
letters tattooed
on the cylinder*
of an old smith-corona

*also referred to as a platen

a few feet away
from the mole's burrow
an earthworm
trying to find its way
back into the soil

twa memorabilia
a replica
of an L-1011
casts its shadow
across the globe

the exercise bike
taken out of storage
just resting in the garage
the spokes from the carriage
of a daddy-long-legs

half of the old highway 30
river bridge gone
the remaining span
no longer connected
to the people it once served

before the next rain
changes into summer
three bowls
of blackberry cobbler
wait for the family's return