The Grid

The petite and ubiquitous 

bowling greens of suburbia

beyond freeways

Where the love made is 

ephemeral and frayed

as travel toothbrushes. 

Overcast

Skinflint sky above,

clouds hold rain

like bands of misers.

They banish Sun 

and dull day's shine 

to the leaden mean. 

Été

"Day at last dawns; and like the raised curtains of a tabernacle, golden clouds furling into large scrolls uncover the sky." Flaubert, The Temptation of St. Anthony.

 

Vanity Set Moon

 

"Je t'adore à l'égal de la voûte nocturne..."