BY LAWRENCE HALL
A Station Stop for the Hummingbird Express
Hummingbirds buzz the sugar water buffet
At this junction for the connection to Mexico
I feel I should be wearing a white apron and cap
Refills for everyone—and will that be to go?
No ideological baggage, no bumper stickers
Their maps all drawn for them by an invisible Hand
Their simple duties a transcendent joy
An ancient mission through divine command
Hummingbirds buzz the sugar water buffet
Then with a goodbye to summer they wing away
The Fuel Pump Screen Queen
She’s fresh and lovely on the television screen
Promoting a recipe for a sugar-free treat
And fashion tips for being In The Scene—
Her face on the fuel pump is ever so sweet
She looks so summery in her fashion tee
As gasoline vapors waft through the air
She whispers a makeup hint only to me
And the best techniques for brushing my hair
She speaks to me so charming and nicely
That I forget the fuel dials spinning so pricely
A Burning Bush That Wasn’t
“Vadam, et videbo visionem hanc magnum, quare non comburatur rubus”
- Exodus III
I was not herding Jethro’s flocks on Horeb
But merely walking for pleasure along the road
And like Moses I saw a burning light
And turned aside to see what it might be
There with my stick I pushed aside a bush
And beheld, sparkling in the morning sun
Flung into place by some man’s mighty arm
And not decayed or dimmed by weather or time
A beer can
Rain and Gasoline
“Do you like the rain? Or do you think about it much?”
- Rod McKuen
Shoppers rattle their trolleys to their cars
An unexpected September thunderstorm
Splashes rain on the six-months-hot parking lot
Raising steam and hopes—will autumn ever come?
Thunderings rattle the ground and the air
From the service station up the concrete slope
Gasoline and diesel join the rivulets
In making iridescent the sloshing streams
Sale papers and cigarette ends float free
But only to the drains, not to the sea
