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Collected Poetry

    (rd king dot net)
poetry and digital art

Passion Eddy  

Book two of impromptu trilogy.

  Easter Parade


You're humming a sweet tune that carries
no real words; it's simply a birdsong of notes

held in remarkable patterns; the city is perfect
in it's every detail like an Easter parade.

The young have their problems;  the moon
makes them tremble with besieging excitations,
   and
when you break you find the windshield crying
rain.  You hope her wailing is apt appreciation

of this and all else now regally encountered
as a skyline backlit by the moon, your only

patron—you toss your car keys near a lamp
and fall into a chair, too thrilled to rumple
    the evening's excellent sheets.



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