Hydrangeas on Ashton

Much of what poses as poetry, isn't, and some of what doesn't, is.

A case can be made that a poem can be made of a small hand- written group of words placed on a piece of white paper and clipped to the bright green leaves of the hydrangea bush in front of a neat little house on Ashton near Ocean Avenue, San Francisco.

As a case can be made that it's not a poem at all, it's simply a warning, and that the poem, if there is any poetry in it at all, is all in the reader's mind, a man out walking in a neighborhood new to him who has nothing more important to think about, and is prone to see a poem in almost anything.