Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Brooding

A random rupture
runs ash prints
all over a continent
leaving stranded passengers
in foreign ports;
raging earth on the move,
its hot breath
maniacal,
making me imagine
--while I pour coffee--
the dust of lost cities,
the Great Depression,
the coming hurricane season.
and how I cannot see
what will bring on miracles
or promising poetry,
but then, even love
has its tragic side.