Natural Progression

One

Under radiant moonshadow
Swallows glide into non-formation
Unlike Blue Angels
Their wings—
A doppler effect
Like a train or bomber

Two

Awkward weave spins in knots
Crude twine and dirt
It smells of wood as August dwells around the corner

Three

Life fleeing agents outside a world of glass and steel
Into the desert with you
Iron rods you hold
Tipping lives for roads
Leading to more fashion shows
Cocktail party hour umbrella and swans.

---Summer 1993, Portland, Oregon