Undefined Author

the son called today–
sounds like he is working hard
sowing his wild oats

into the picture
of wet skies over Belgrade
has run a rainbow

the musty cellar:
reminding me of something
I can’t remember

flock of bright stars
over frozen trees –
sparkling together

scanning the photos,
and now I understand why
you had to be there

outside the cabin
I see last night’s wolf tracks-
closer than before

so cold
the dog goes out to pee
reluctantly