pearl & olive skinned, grout black at its cloven
base  strung with horned seed fruit the size
of ice cream scoops   scarred pinballs, merry and plentiful as
   Mexican hatbands
   and as quickly lost

arbutus  you say aloud  and think
            of Arbuckle    of poor Fatty  of the many histories of
   ruined stars  and

stop  at a familiar corner  step off pedals & pinch brake handles  
   look and glide

over worm white roots teasing water from gravel, from clay
half a block later

— R. M. VAUGHAN

(Originally published Christmas, 2000.)