Peter Chapman Poetry

in situ

things i saw today:

in the road, the wing of a large dead bird
waving from an old life as cars flew by

a pretty young mom, playing ball with her 3 kids,
in the front yard near the road in the afternoon

identical twin girls with ribbons in their hair
jumping over the curbstone while their father,
case of beer on his hip, talked to the liquor
store clerk about motorcycles

an old guy in a bar who made a bird from nails and set it on a nail he'd driven with his
hand into a bottlecap on a full beer then laughed as it flew, perfectly, first try