From the Fishouse

For this reason hail in June
and how we read the season

jeremiad or excuse
to shelter in the park gazebo

as white granular ciphers
written hectic and sky-bitten

over the well-mannered lawn
spell birdsong despite it all

or because of it perhaps
grackles crowd lower boughs

keen and scold the wintry
missiles with shrill flushing

whistles that overbrim
loosening like unpent steam

from the tea kettle’s grip
singing for this reason

your loose shoulder strap
a little falls a little falls

what your freckled shoulder means
on the tip of my tongue.