Rain Freckles the Pavement

Rain freckles the pavement
Like an Irish girl's face
In the departing June sunshine

And as she skips rope
Her bare heels bump the ground
And Newton says
That with every footfall
She rattles the earth.

The Cat Follows Me Home

The cat follows me home
Walking through freshly laundered night air
The rain still on its breath.
Over a rise, I see a phantom in my path
Black tatters trailing wide arms
Like a ragged scarecrow––
And then the world finds me
And the phantom is a pine branch
Hanging low over the road.

Like an arching wing
The curved bough carries angels
That I can still see when I close my eyes––
The ghost of a ghost––
If I look at it right, I can make my eyes find it;
Trace out the phantom that was there,
And see it again.
But I keep walking, and the smell of pine
Mixes with the night air
And I can see nothing more or less
Than the casual sweep
Of the arm of a white pine.