The Compleat Taxi Chaser

The first thing you notice is
The confluence of traffic,
The onrush of day-lit chrome.
You hear horns blaring –
They burst, leap like salmon
At the dam of stops and starts.

And then you hear the curse –
The curse of the angler
Waist high in this torrent,
Trying to catch a big-mouth cab.

     Published, New York Times: 

http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/10/17/the-compleat-taxi-chaser/?_php=true&_type=blogs&_r=0

Fall 2014

The neighborhood trees

After the rain

Are losing investment.

Their brown-and-green

Ticker tape

Now lies on the ground.

Mosaic

You are high-born -

A woman I saw in

Lapis, alabaster, chalcedony.

An elegant Byzantine

Who, over her smooth

Polished shoulder,

Looked back at me.

You looked at me

With your almond eyes

Of rare inlay,

Your half-smile serene,

Your scarf red and gold.

And you reached to me,

Your fingertips

Grazing my cheek.