Foghorn in the Garden

Howl and answer of the summer foghorn
   and I kneel by the bed of the disused garden.

Sun on my back quickly passes;
   high fog or low clouds flee before the wind.

Howl and answer of the coastal foghorn
   and wind shakes the neighbor’s redwood.
 
Shadows of clouds fly on the concrete
   where yellow poppies grow in the cracks.

First published in Residual Heat under my pseudonym Aga Black.