Page 47 - just saying....
P. 47
long route home
along the chain bridge.
an iced coffee and emails.
my large abstract
painting has sold.
later I lace up my athletic shoes,
whistle to the birds.
a familiar voice calls out
from a passing car:
‘do you always walk
without looking?’
I turn my head and
a friend asks,
‘would you like some Indian Knot Weed?’
hands hold out stalks like asparagus.
now you can cook up all kinds
of wonderful things. 
