When They Gather

A flock blusters in,
out of the winter flurry,
amid the squawk and flutter
the crows find their gathers.

The men place bets
when they flock by the TV,
and the women drink
when they gather in the kitchen.

The TV-gather struts and blusters,
makes noise, flaps their wings,
throws food in the air,
and the women drink
when they gather in the kitchen.

Bull Under A Peach Tree

By a dirt road an orchard’s remnant
stands in a pasture’s corner and produces
an old crop. Alluring pink blouses
on the breeze draw careless insects.

The blouses have long shed their fragrance
and dropped onto the moss bed,
leaving bulging-belly fruit basking in sun
until they too lose their grip.

I sit under the tree and watch a bull
glean the fallen fruit, the sweetest
with a tang of fermentation