Need 3024 2332 Thomas Zimmerman

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.

Header photograph © Jason D. Ramsey.

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