Thursday, December 28, 2006

ccclvii

I’m on Walden Pond with
raindrops and sunshine.
I’ve been bristly all weekend,
most especially after try

ing to get my driver’s license
in Watertown and
being told I didn’t have
the proper equipment.

This morning I woke up
and saw olive oil. It was just
looking at me. Like it
wanted to say good morning.

A dog lopes up a hill with
two people. A fly lands
on my book. Six salted eggs
on Stockton Street. The

tripod, like a spider, lands
on the soft grass next
to the blossom-dusted
cobblestone. Its camera

finds a book about pickle
spears and salted eggs.
The bell rings. It is
another F Train.

good morning Del