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Two Excursions

When Mari
turns her back
announcing an errand
I can do without

I often
ramble
camera in hand.

Hearing of a small lake
south of Tucson
is like the children of Israel
finding water in the Negev:

I had to go
to John F. Kennedy Lake.

It was like finding
a little water
in a desert. 




"What?  What!
Is that a pilgrim
come walking?"
 Today,
while waiting
on a tonneau
for my new
used pickup--

it was time
for the three-quarter ton
to go look for a load--

I explored a cemetery
upon the advice
of the Audubon Society,
looking for birds
looking for water and bugs.

Not many.

Strange to see swallows
(I assume)
unrelenting
in their determination
to live in a mausoleum,

 and creepy eerie
to find a bathroom
on a wall
otherwise occupied
with citizens
in repose.

Something like
a bird finding
a whirly-gig
at a grave marker.

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