Gazebo
by Danny Lawless

From a distance, on the town square,
It appears as a cage
Left momentarily on a baize tabletop.

Domed, and set with a swing
Where the silver-crested local lovebirds’ coo and peck
Has lately been reduced to one

Who coos and pecks no more, but carries on
In pantomime the essential conversation—
Or yawps in scarlet startled grief

Unspooling into wary meditation
On bright details I cannot see   
From the courthouse steps:

Sea-green brooch, a waggled key,
The tooth-split, sun-seized carapace of  sunflower seed,
Chirps upon cloud-stained stone.

Daniel Lawless teaches writing, film, and humanities at St. Petersburg College in Florida. He has published in Kentucky Review, The Iron City Review, White Mule, Les Cahiers du Lez, Poems Niederngasse, and The Adirondack Review.

© 2008 prickofthespindle.com