Old Logging Road

The old logging road
An orange salamander
And I realized this couldn't possibly be a haiku
There was too much to say about
The pitiful lizard squatting in the gravel

Bright as a neon sign
Hardly cloaked
Seemingly afraid of our footfall, or curious
Or searching for Stratton Pond
As a dozen more appeared

The old logging road
Looking like the Vegas Strip
Blazing with construction orange
Of thousands of salamanders, the only diversion
From a piercing rainstorm

7.10
s.d.

Ten Ways of Remembering April

Reprieve from February. Tramping through
the Garden State. Played games to pass the time.

Talking of amber in afternoon heat. Walked with a noticeable
limp. Coquettish smile without laughter. Eye noticed
the red velvet cupcake. Pale as a salted cat.

Impermanence is such a beautiful
word. Most days it rained.

2.10
s.d.