Instead of coffee,
I sip water from a cup
as I watch for dawn.
On my morning walk
I watch a schoolboy watching
the man who feeds birds.
The wind tells stories
while stones and foxes listen
and the stars keep watch.
Watch
too ill to travel
so I watch from my window
the first snow falling
Watching
watching my father
watching the blackbird strutting
on the backyard fence
Solstice
drinking to the dregs
my seventh cup of coffee
on the solstice watch
Flick
The night hotel clerk,
having nothing else to do,
watches a porn flick.
Jaundiced
the scratch on my lens—
why I keep watching the wren
with a jaundiced eye
Watching
watching words fly by
as though they were skeins of geese
fleeing summer’s end
Timekeeper
My grandfather’s watch—
not a tick for fifty years,
yet my heart keeps time.