Timothy Steele

I looked for it, low in the east, Where it was scheduled to appear. Good sightings of it were, I knew, Rare in the northern hemisphere. Cream-golden Saturn shone above me. By imperceptible degrees Orion climbed, tilted acutely, Through nearby eucalyptus trees. Despite the chill and damp, I worked . . . . Continue Reading »

The stocking feeder was an instant hit: Birds came as soon as I suspended it Above the deck that spring, and all agreed Few venues offered such fine nyjer seed. The feeder served, among its clientele, The lesser goldfinches especially well. It suited their small feet and sturdy bills And acrobatic . . . . Continue Reading »

Sooner or later in the night, He’d spring onto the bed, Advance along my flank, and curl And settle by my head. I’d stroke his coat to welcome him, Amused that he should treat The hive of human intellect As just a source of heat. Yet on his last trip to the vet, He knew I was distressed. . . . . Continue Reading »

Wearing a toga and a laurel wreath, The neighbor’s boy is Caesar for the day. Beside the family car, he bows beneath The burden of enacting Shakespeare’s play And strolls, hands clasped behind him, to and fro, Pondering at fifteen his overthrow. He’s sought out my advice in this . . . . Continue Reading »