Poems August Running

Funnels

so that evening
funnels are for air
in the summer
and in the winter
to send it out
from the room
downstairs

a bee stops by
a hornet
has to see you
no, a wasp
a brown paper wasp
missed you last year
when he sat on the building in the
mornings to keep warm
a paper hive far away

a picture with squares
in the modern
now on the other side of the shade
waiting for warm
july
white blinks
the old
ones curtains
sheer and beige

not a try
to be read and seen
winter again
in the snow
by the lake
filmy waiting