Noon on the Rio Hondo

out on the wide spread of the West

the line between the earth and sky

seems so thin      and we so unprotected

here in the Rio Hondo wash

the sun teases out bits of mirage

from the hot bottom of the concrete channel

while under the Montebello bluffs

a wooden roof and benches form

a place to hide from endless sky

where a clump of men sit in the shade

some homeless      some have just come down

to pass the empty middle of the day

what to say about these men

who have no work to call them back

from the quick breath of a forty minute lunch

flap meat and onions sizzle

on a little grill

lunch preparations     but other than that

they meditate beneath their tree

on an airplane headed to LAX

and the march of sun down to the coast

while on a distant overpass

trucks and cars slow    then stop   then start again

radios play and air conditioners hum

and on this warm day when a beer will feel good

their friend approaches on a bike     a cool case of Modelo

balanced on his handlebars

© Frank Kearns 2015

Ghost Stories

The close sun of Los Angeles

is hard on ghosts

you won’t find them as you might

lurking deep in redwood forests

or soaring on the wind

in the high sky of Mojave

In the light we tell our stories

cheerfully with bits of lunch

           at noisy restaurant tables

standing in chance market meetings

or bravely in fluorescent

          story-telling classes

The ghosts prefer to hide and wait for dark

to float down moon-lit river channels

tiptoe among the black palm tree silhouettes

echo back the words they hear

          in corners of dim living rooms

collect the things that we have hidden deep

and then explode us from our deepest sleep

© 2015 Frank Kearns