Equinox

by John Pursch

Meaning salvages

intermingled souls,

tossing scribbled age

to vernal equinox.

Aglow in Summer Rain

by John Pursch

From timed machinations

to national ironies,

stepping stones plunge

in coughing fits,

convulse in lounge acts,

and fuel the boulevard

with swollen steel.

Woolen eyes peer unbuttoned

from beveled bits of pied

voluminous coal,

telegraphing impious

industrial secretions.

Elegance in purebred earshot,

fulminating freckled faces,

fully genetic drawstrings

come stumbling down

to blacktop basement

hooligan election-speak

of train stop shards

to discontinuous oddities

in swerving technicolor aardvark,

semisweet perennials

aglow in summer rain.

When I Heard

by John Pursch

When I heard

the cactus wren

I finally saw

the tree

the hawk  

the vast blue sky.