Poem Written While Gazing At A Concrete Wall, Pugging Clay On Mount Dickinson, And Recalling Breakfast With A Poet Friend

feet on the ground

a poem in the clouds

must have flown by

from my mountain perch

birds on the power lines

look like raisin-ettes

hunger drives me!

a poem feeds something

the belly still grumbles

you promised a poem

were those feathers

in your mouth