Pilgrimage: Plum Butter

the hopeful bees cluster and buzz
the elegant butterfly rests in the branch
her wings scarcely move
In the early afternoon sun
everything seems possible
including plums

Where Does The Poem

Where does the poem go
the poem I wrote yesterday
the poem that captures yesterday's
moment
the poem that captures the fleeting look on your face
there is no trace
it evaporated as surely as Saturday's
rain
and the recollection of our young live

Fwd: Today the Rain Stopped

Sent from my iPhone

Begin forwarded message:

From: Evangeline Brown <cestegal@att.net>
Date: March 25, 2012 11:13:41 PM PDT
To: Evangeline Brown <cestegal.illepu@blogger.com>
Subject: Today the Rain Stopped

sidewalks dried
calla lilies held cups of water
bird song filled the air with joy
madly Spring rushed in
trailing sparkling drops of rain

Sent from my iPhone

Civil Eyes

The Pilgrim will cobble together
the necessary body, the baby doll's eyes wide
open. Your oldest friend. The red head of our dreams 
with a patient hand that is always
praying. The Pilgrim will


fabricate from what remains open and
unblinking. The commerce of correspondence -
call and response.

Haiga

she has red red hair
the coffee shop feels warmer
though it's a cold Spring

Pilgrimage: Going Postal

waiting in line at the Post Office
to buy stamps, send packages, pick up information, pleas, and love
most of the standees are White
but there are two Black men,
two Black women, the postal clerk who is from the Indian sub-continent
and me recently
the Post Office has decided to shutter many PO buildings
it's about profit and inconvenience
whose profit?
whose inconvenience?
these places where we gather
to commune in real life
they are slower
they require more time
more thought
they require that we show up
that we bring ourselves with us
we call it
first class
special delivery
priority
express
we call it
civil
eyes

Pilgrim Running Past

We make models with the metal
we find and lift from the garden
an elongated spring, a section
of screen, an almost impeccable 
toy car discarded. 


We are caught up, mid-dash
past the glint of weather water 
on the treasure, grass growing 
gold again like pleasure 
after absence.

Pilgrimage: Succulent

the agapanthus has yet to lift its buds

only the succulent impervious to weather

speak of Spring in my garden

its leathery leaves lifted

to the sun

while a spider spins a trap

for the unsuspecting fly

Wet Pilgrim

Evening snow
and the pavement

dampens.
These shoes
have served me
well for the years
of unexpected
weather. Two days
before the school-
kids break for
Spring and the 
green wool
cap is still
in my red
coat pocket
for nights
like this.

Pilgrimage: Week's End

it rained yesterday
leaving the air clean
as glass
the acacia blossoms have not released
their heavy yellow pollen
so we walk unscathed along the street
toward the fish shop
to purchase tonight's dinner

Pilgrimage to There: Often Unpredictable

Rodeo of dust and snow. Hard to know whether to don a hat, 
carry a ski pole, waterproof your boots or to stay behind glass,
waiting for the neon to switch on signaling wind 
as the cowboy God rattles the weather for a dust eating ride 
across the fair grounds just to make it safely to your car.