Cigarette Burns in the Sheets

 

There’s part of me that really likes a good cheap

motel room with a small patch of peeling wallpaper,

a few cracks in the ceiling and one or two cigarette

burns in the sheets and pillow cases, here and there,

maybe a couple of shady characters pimping and

dealing from a room around back. As long as there’s

a liquor store, near-by, cable TV and hot water,

then I’m good.






An Old Courtyard

 

A clock ticking in

a dead man’s room, a feather

stirred by a cool, damp

 

breath of wind through the

open French doors that lead to

an old courtyard with

 

cracked tiles, over-grown

with what, no doubt, must have once

been perfectly cared-

 

for flowers, shrubs, trees,

hedges, and even an old

water garden pond,

 

where a few frogs, koi

and an ancient turtle can,

miraculously,

 

still be found, lurking,

as must a pride of peacocks,

somewhere on the grounds.