an excerpt of

         Having weighed the issues

A candidate came to my door. He looked
very tired, as if his face
had been left out in the rain.
All the handshaking and kissing
of babies. All the baby shaking
and kissing of hands. I can’t recall
if he was the “we spend too much”
or “we don't spend enough” guy. One
tends to wear red ties
with dark blue stripes, the other
red ties with darker blue stripes.
Behind his asking for my passion
and my vote, fireflies drifted
above the grass. I thought of them
as buoys cut loose on the sea
and was glad not to be a sailor, . . .