Our Last June in the New World

The trees are taller, 

you can barely see the brick beyond.

Our wild turkeys look urbane.

The goslings and their goslings goslings have all made their way.

The final rain shower

black and deep, 

inexorably heavy, 

has come and gone. 

It's hot and dry now. 

We're too adept for mudflat mirages. 

The fact is 

we bailed the shit out of this boat 

and its high time we stand up and walk.