Poems

Morning

In a kind of stargazing 

where light, like music

signals the diverse notes

of a day like this, I am wholly

thankful for today's bureaucratic victory

while on the street

a policeman wrapped in 

the halo of his profession

cries out 17, 18 

to no one in particular . . .

On the shelves of the supermarket

are products for body and soul.

On the way there,

while thinking about my friend,

I meet her,

my best friend.