Nothing Much to Say Tonight

Nothing much to say tonight.

The patio is fixed, at last,

By my labor once removed

And surely by hands more

Competent than these, so fingers

Crossed it will last at least

As long as I do. There’s been

A bit of October in the air,

The mornings cool and

The stars crisp, but the

Lightning bugs don’t seem

To mind, some blinking fast,

Some blinking slow, looking

For love among the pines.

Just saw the groundhog

Standing tall at the 17th

Tee; from the direction of

His gaze, I’d guess he hit

A slice. The damn dogs

Killed two squirrels today;

I laid their bodies beneath

The trees, angry yet again

With the senselessness of

Death that follows us

Everywhere we go, the margin

Of every mile stained with

Our passage. Hell, not even

The heavens remain unmarked,

Their dusky blue threaded

With the filaments of our

Ephemeral travels.

And so.

Love, I guess,

What life remains, even—

Especially—the damn dogs

Who, unlike me, can claim

The virtue of ignorance for

The harms they’ve done.

And so.

And so.

The garden’s watered,

And the sun has gone.

Nothing much to say tonight.

6/9/2023