Brad Bennett

lily pad
a dragonfly’s now
syncs with mine

caws becoming specks becoming crows

solstice picnic
the arc
of a horseshoe

rusted
and abandoned
summer pine

a slug hole
in the mushroom cap
first raindrops

counting clouds
the nuthatch
caches a seed

my head
full of worries…
drooping sunflowers

the longest
I’ve ever lived in one place…
lichen on maples

noon
the bonsai’s shadow
barely there

daymoon
a bullfrog’s
big gulp

shallow pond
a muskrat swims
through the sun

autumn light
the school garden scarecrow
wears a tutu

loneliness…
my spit draws
more minnows

mid-summer
a goldfinch rests
in a chain-link fence

plates clinking
in the dishwasher
evening sleet

all day rain
clicking my pen again
and again

woodpecker holes…
the constellation’s name
slips my mind

swapping work stories
his pint of beer
has more foam

disco band…
swirling dust motes
take the spotlight

the longest day
a sky blue Cadillac
drives slowly by

moon bridge
the wide mouth
of a silver koi

Zen garden
the tourist dips his toe
in the gravel

trash day–
a drum set
in the pouring rain

cleaning both sides
of the sliding glass door–
bird song