"In the Alley."
At noon, an airplane.
A hard drop of sweat rolls down the sky's big forehead.
The dry alley dreams of water.
Trampled root fenced off the housewife trees
multiply their fruit.
Later, a man gray as gravel comes up the alley.
At a garbage can, an alarm of flies goes off in his face.
Scared by a wind that walks through gates.
Among the leaves, the fallen man curls around a wall like smoke
and disappears.
In the yards, the trees drop loquats and yellow ripe round
pears.