recent poems
For Roxanne
  You Make the Lights Sing

The moon moves in from the Atlantic
a whole history of sea swells
spread now over the Catskills
and down through the December streets

And everywhere from the homes
white and green and red contraptions
necklaces for the cold and dark
flicker and fly

And you and I ride
the still roads and the evenings
and introduce the sun in the morning
and with the wand of the maestro
you make the lights sing


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