Dear Cigar

Summer's well, and the
Man sells himself for
switch-hitting anything
and plays his game
like simple cocktail smiles
And it's just
The way he wants
it to become,
this barter for distraction
as he tells his
Cigar the games
that he played,
and how he didn't hit
anything and
lost to games' sour aftertaste.

Sugarsweetbitterthrills

Travelling with no
frontiers to escape
the monkey-eagle
The lark
sings its utter cry
to the daffodil fields,
finding itself
back to its nest of
spring leaves
by the shrubs --
by the forest of shrubs
where it can find
the jays, alarmed
and they cry --
The lark
sings its melody
to the fields,
finding itself
back to its nest
outlined all along
by the
autumn undergrowth.