Blue-footed Boobies

From the book Galapagos Poems

The doofy guy at the bar,
trouser cuffs inched up,
bright turquoise socks—

he waddles over
to the pretty woman
at one of the side tables,

and begins his rhythmic,
dance in place,

slower and calmer
than all that is around her—
and she looks down

at her own blue feet
that have started to sway a little—
won over, she thinks,
why not, and begins.

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Clipping Hydrangeas in Autumn