Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Four Poems

[When you live under the mountain]

When you live under the mountain
you do not see the mountain.
What mountain, you ask, stirring your tea,
as your visitor falls silent
before the clouds.

Recruits: Fort Riley, Kansas

Every night they lose at poker to older
men, who know what to do with their faces.

In the Adirondack Chair

Looking the other way as
something flutters beside me in the wind,
I realize
I can't tell pages from wings.


The chameleon on the window vanished
without seeming to move. So are we
looking through the chameleon now
as we gaze across the pasture?

~Lola Haskins

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