The blackbirds and the mourning doves that haunt
the backyard feeder have me thinking need,
the burning fuse that drives us all. And even
though right now it’s wan and shackled in
the pines, the sun’s a brooding Samson. Music
for 18 Musicians bleeps and burbles
from the speakers, percolating coffee
for my spirit. Dog tags jingle: Trey
has roused himself from sleep, and Ann will take
him out. He’s still a puppy, new love of
her life. I barbecued in gentle rain
last night, good friends of many years were over,
drinking, talking late. Would love to make
a poem, or something of myself, today.
Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits The Big Windows Review https://thebigwindowsreview.wordpress.com at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. His poems have appeared recently in Rasputin: A Poetry Thread, Little Rose Magazine, and Sum Journal.