May 31 – a Friday

Final log.
Words fail to fall from Samu’l —
His quill is quiet.

May 30 – a Thursday

The odd seventy.
Blinking eye and peace’s siege —
Fall, oh mountain, fall.

Smallest ancient sea
sees this, our ancient folly —
Walls and widows weep.

The slowness of dawn,
belies the sun’s fleeting feet —
fall, sand, fall, fall, fall.

Sly poet of Rome,
Ovid, becomes a fire-bird —
Oh, Phoenix burn, burn!

Bright Aurora, shine.
Old night, shake off your mantle —
Stir and break, oh dawn.

Cresap’s War ends
in and among forest, Penn’s —
Bound’ries make good friends

the vast and endless
bending grass; a restless sea —
kaleidoscopic

John faced with words, thus
the lamb’s ledger never lies —
Clyde and Bonnie bleed.

For the Western Sea,
Lewis and Clark leave St. Charles —
Grizzlies soon to see.

Defoe’s the foe
Smell the fragrant pillory
Friday and Crusoe

Creed is spoken-three
Will’s sonnets are blocked and set —
Trash truck’s rumbling

hen pecks, pecks and pecks
beetle scrambles to escape —
a chair is there, so rest

Coffee’s steamed, steamed and steamed
breakfast breaks upon our day —
umbrellas unfold

seventeen of five
five months of dwindling twelve —
hear the water’s gate