A Sure Sign

Weekday spring and the living is
cool and easy in the morning
the dirt just right for planting
sunflowers to join the coming warmth
of today.

While on your rounds
whenever you pass these stalks
and opened cups don't it make you
remember ukeleles and tiptoes and
high falsettos from decades hence?

Look up and around
the homeless are carrying signs,
"will work for money."
There's a post on the streetlamp
ahead that says someone is

desparately seeking a white pit
named Elvis and that if one
approached for your offer of
bananas and peanut butter on two
slices of honey-glazed bread,
then its probably him.

Sighs and signs of the times,
I have bizarre visions of a
fat bald guy walking to his
car late at night with a can
of Bud in one hand, a case of
empties in the other

and when he puts the key into
the ignition and revs the motor
continuously so that it blows the
engine beyond repair, the white hot
range of events that follow would
prove positive or negative
an ionic riot of one.