• CITY SUN FISHING


    the gentle ripples wash the grassy shore
    as silver sunlight burns my squinted eyes
    several geese with gosling honk at dogs
    that water dog wag the lake from their fur
    two pristine swans with trumpeting retorts
    navigate the surface seeming more to glide
    than to paddle their feet to swim between the rocks
    and beneath the trees they grill their cheddar-wursts
    but behind them on the street the homeless watch
    for suckers or for carp to grace their steaming pots
    pretending they are hobos, which they are not,
    no more than would be Messiahs on a holy cross
    as the city drives on, tires singing so loud
    carrying many with more but leaving some without.