TWO POEMS

A KITE’S FATE

Above me, the sun.
Beneath me, the trees.
Birds give way to me
as I savor the wind.

Here, hot and cold mix.
The atmosphere is lukewarm.
My shirt is cellophane.
I feel sweltering here.

I’m a jet. I’m a plane.
I’m a bird out of cage.
But I am not free.
Below, a kid controls me.



OLD DINING TABLE

We should replace it now, honey.
Look, it is too small for us.
[Our children are no more kids.
They want their own chairs, places.]

Its legs are tired battling with scars
of wounds inflicted by cribs, strollers,
and of unscrupulous shoes, boots.
“What do you think, honey?”



(Note: These two poems are forthcoming in Homelife Magazine)