waning light
a cormorant and I
linger in deep water
Month: July 2021
rented cottage
a hummingbird returns
to an empty feeder
antique shop
today’s prices
on vintage tags
sipping tea
sent by a friend
as a birthday gift
I am learning
to grow old
late innings in the stands gathering dust
grieving all day
in the wind
three tall magenta zinnias
(previously published in Modern Haiku, 2020)
sister lotus
teach me the Dao
of blossoms
zoom therapy
the small holes in the back
of my sweater
bones the geology of me
age spots
I no longer talk
with my hands
everywhere
someone’s hands
this old adobe
with every storm
this spiderweb
rent and rebuilt
day long rain
the missing numbers
on the remote control
spitting rain
the sound of noodles
hitting the wok
banana split
the child in me
still a child
family photo —
everyone wears
the same smile
(originally published in Chronogram, Dec 2007)
staying in touch?
after the Zoom meeting
moon meditation
St. Mark’s Square
a cloud of pigeons unveils
a cloud of tourists
filling in
the empty spaces
daily crossword
midwinter
a redtail endures
the rain
who knows how long
widowhood lasts
mute swan