Saw Man

On occasion I needed wood

For a bed I planned to build
Being 60 I needed help
of a clerk in a shop in our neighborhood.

A young man in his 20's his
Peers called the saw man,
guided the whirling blade cross the planks

Conversation led to freer
thought, his mind felt
its way to tell

of a friend he had
whose father made
rubbery shoes for clowns.

Oh the world is not
so changed.

All About 

Do you think they will like me?
Will most swoon upon my grace?
Can some predict a finer tea?
How are all about to face?

If a varmint creeps the desert
Seven lances will let fly
Toward a future somewhat desperate
In which only infants cry.

Now and then in full dimension
Life abounding free unbending.
A raven’s feather could but stun
Life eternal with no ending.

Green (for Federico Garcia Lorca) 

Green oh green your lashes, tresses
By the warm most sullen lake

Green the center of an acorn
Turtles swim, bask and bake

Along the mossy amphibian shore
Toadish people count their time

Shoeshine mister, spit adds more
It all ads up to one thin dime.

Is this what we all live for?

City 

Late one night in my modern city
Haunted with stories deep in years.
Lonely people wander widely
Enduring plight fraught with fears.

Subterranean pits of light
Belch up numbers, plucky hordes
Vikings in encampments bright
Where indigenous folk dried gourds.

Some came regal some so poor
A boatman in the park deftly dips an oar
Sirens pave the soiled slithy path
Natives never stoop to show their wrath.

Copyright, Richard Schiff.
All rights reserved by author.