Saturday, June 02, 2001

stiff white clouds
thatch the bright sky
a strong cool wind blows through my shirt.
the sidewalk is refreshed
with deep shadows.
a bottle of wine
chills in the fridge downstairs,
and a warm slow burn in my legs and feet
reminds me
that i walked a lot today.
we stop.
a butterfly warms itself on a rock.
its wings, crisp leaves, rise slowly.
pause
a mad flutter
and now nothing.
we walk on.