core thought

core thought
at home thinking a spark
where day starts,
all begins in the dark.

five this morning
playing piano in my head
figuring it out, doing the left hand,
making it better, keeping it tight, lying in bed.

and i said, time moves on, six-thirty; oh,
the sun is on the mask now, the stone medallion
over the door on the building opposite our window.
i’m up this instant and want to take a photo of it.

the mask is already
a few hundred years old
and i want to preserve it
forever, on celluloid? am i joking?

and i take one, it is blurry.
i take five, all are blurry.
for one minute some days,
some times i think of

these swans in stone, this family seal.
the sun kisses it brief moments, mornings
when it is sunny. if i am looking
at the right time, in the right month, i see it.

though, can’t think of it now, planning this day, i am.
have to make breakfast and shower,
then catch a train to pick up the car.
we’ll find a place to park it when we get here

back to where we start, some other hour
at the beginning, home again
at the beginning of the day
then, when the sun is rising

geese - the significant

when driving in a dream there is
no need to signal, yet i cordially wave and smile.
traffic heavy melts together on the road,
shut my eyes and nod off into a cat nap.

in a splash, came to wakeful senses
i did in a crowd. horns honking.
waved back, had the change,
paid the toll. told myself i could finish

this dream, in an hour, if i rush.
hit the gas, checked the time
and then realized an hour had already passed.
time flies, you know, some say, they’re right, some time.

took another bite of sandwich,
chewed slowly while i wondered
where i got it and how to hold it
with two hands while driving?

seemed mayonnaise enough to me ,
i smiled at the hearty bread, tasty as reality,
with long green salty seeds in it,
and the tomato slipping out.

aware that all the red was taillights
all the honking were wild geese
making restful music as i
closed my eyes to finish dreaming.

thinking the one last conscious thought,
that i like geese, i really do.
never met one though to get to know,
i’d surly like to.

Rome Christmas cone lasts one day

a man seated at an outside restaurant table,
in sport and open collar shirt,
was sipping a cappuccino.
noticing him reminded me the pre-Chrismas weather's fine.

as we circled the center of Rome,
where only yesterday a forty foot tall
red and mostly white paper mache
inverted cone was prominent on display,

we had debated briefly about what it was,
and why it was there
where the holiday tree usually sits,
and wondered who came up with that idea?

has it gone now to where decorations go,
though always after the holiday,
not three weeks before,
not the day after it was put there?

someone else had noticed the strange cone,
someone with an influential voice in the city,
and must have concurred with us, it didn't work,
it looked absolutely stupid.

a voice spoke, “take it down.”
and probably advised,
“don’t ever try anything
stupid like that again.”

and is sipping a capuccino at this time
at an outdoor cafe,
wearing a sport coat and open-collar shirt
while fuming much less and enjoying the holiday season more.