wild violet
making a home
where I am
Month: December 2023
lamplit barn
the calf inside
stops kicking
foreclosed farm
dinner bell ringing
in the dusty wind
crane
by crane
autumn
moves on
burning leaves
a stranger at Auschwitz
asks me where I’m from
one hiker
out of millions
a pebble loosens
(haiku by Agnes Eva Savich, art by Linda Miles)
appointment time
handicap spaces filled
with geese
granting me
an audience . . .
hermit thrush
from the balcony
a lorikeet
whistles me up
a hummingbird
inside my rib cage
this fool in love
small talk
we exchange
candy hearts
a handful of stars
in the garden pail
fingers dripping
I offer them
to you
wildflowers
when one word
is more than enough
making the most
of an old tin roof . . .
drumming flicker
solstice
on its tilted axis
the weathered nest box
Sunday church service
holding my attention
the sun through stained glass
Advent Calendar
the final window
a refugee mother
(Originally published in NOON, 2023)
children’s worship
one thankful for mice
another for cheese
tourist town
the ka-whop of flipflops
through the cathedral
new voice
in the choir—
migrant warbler
shelling peas—
each passing year
like the one before