Mud Soup

churning churlish

under canopy of trees

at the quiet park

summer streets simmer

while temptint rain

the only Dad here

hiding under a sweaty hat

trying not to gawk

at the fit mom

breastfeeding

and the cool dirt

speaks to me

when the girls pile it

to build their castle

we endure all shapes

of absurdities

to give our blood kin

an edge,

grateful we no longer

have to kill for it

the girls

make their quiet father

mud soup

I pretend to sip it

—delicious—

as I wait

to unleash their ambition

upon the world

Breeze Damage

much more trouble

than tussled hair

or the dust void

on the floor

from what’s missing there

an uprooted mudline

is this purgatory’s border

a ruined life’s chaos

keeps its own

kind of order

there’s no engineer

to blame,

no liable claim

moneyed salvation

is the flip side of nature,

and a zero-sum game

those forces that

greened the grass

and churned the sea

gladly unglued it all

for you and me

we’ll watch it

powerlessly

and let it be