cottonwood fluff
gathers on the pavement.
it settles in whorls,
traces wind eddies
down the block a dog barks
at the last of the day
its owner stares at the sunset
and dreams of past lovers
this is spring around these parts:
half easy, gentle breeze,
half torpor and memory
and a measure of forgetfulness
the rain helps a little
though it’s been sparse this year
cool rain takes away your loss
lets you remember
it’s tricky stuff this cottonwood fluff
clogging up air-conditioners
blocking car radiators
and rolling heavy up on curbs
it makes you think it’s more than air
until you stick your fist in it
and the dog barks and the lover dreams,
and you feel that rain
