Cedar Park

I was waiting, gazing,

out the front door of my hotel at

orange poppies swaying beside a tan rock,

when an bright orange cab parked in front and

the driver got out, sipped his water and stood

waiting; revelation ?

 

a brief glimpse eclipsed,

a moment first lifted to the faceting light

then dropped to the floor of the world.

 

                                                  Guy

Golden

Golden lay light upon the sill

after lunch, after school.

Day lingers slowly, a patch of light,

time pursues day retreats

but the moving trail is still new

and I wonder at the golden pool.

The window still speaks of sun

after night after years, decades of time

I see that golden time, still.

                                               Guy