Rusty Tool

The wrench falls.

CLANG.

No surprise.

But what if

the wrench unleashed 

took a detour

before it hit 

the floor, looking 

through windows, floating 

out an open door, surveying 

the island, the ocean, even 

visiting the mainland 

to tour a museum or two, 

before boarding the last 

ferry home and landing 

at your feet?

What sound 

would it make then?

Would it even bother

to come back home?

[LSS, 9/15/20]

The Language of Trees

During conference calls

I often excuse myself:

There is something I need to do.

Then I slip into the hallway

trying to listen to the conversation

going on without me,

but all I hear is the sound 

of the pruned trees licking 

their wounds, the maples 

coordinating their fall 

convention, the soliloquy 

of the burl forming 

at the base of skull.

[LSS, 9/15/20]