Month: May 2020

Manhattan evening three fingers of sunset  

spring gusts … a swirl of dead leaves in the dugout  

express take-out all the way home nothing but red lights

small-town diner she tells us we can take any seat we like  

milk moon she tells more than he wants to know  

her bony back against my palm — Mother’s Day             (First published in evolution, the Red Moon anthology, 2010)

waning moon arranging flowers in her mother’s hands

my daughter can’t read cursive imagine my sorrow my notes in her baby book are gibberish to her         (From A Thousand Voices, Tanka Society

what we take and what we leave behind honey harvest  

The Path Walking through the birch trees we talk of our children and our work. Which for me is one and the same. We talk of haiku, of Shakespeare, of religion. And I wonder

fairy lights on a sapling… her prom dress

struggling with the new curriculum weekly shooter drill  

short day this cold shell of a bullet  

spring vineyard stone farmhouse pockmarked with mortar shells

returning to the vanishing point in the blue hour five lonely notes of a mourning dove  

lilacs filling the house with memories

mayfly the eulogy writes itself

day moon bees orbit the buttonbush  

first sprouts a crow cleans its feathers on the scarecrow’s shoulder  

spring planting– a runner of ivy in the dog’s teeth