the cat attacks the sulky billfold
and above, the clouds are eloquent

the cricket sneaks along the baseboard
in a delicate confusion, looking for a thing
mislaid, like a freedom

or a calculation, like the sweetness
of remembered movements
to a window lady in a dirty gown

at seven, greedy bees
hang backward from the hyssop
then the houses throw a shadow back and forth
darkness comes down from the trees

when everything has done, a naked moon comes out
to stand and say the epilogue
smiling in its beard

Robert Gregory | Mudlark No. 17
Contents | Of a Man in the Road