business lunch
the dialogues
unspoken
business lunch
the dialogues
unspoken
closing time
a stepladder holds
the last light
alone at home
spending time with
my habits
I am a moth too
in the face of light
orion
my mind back at the source
of words
war memorial
the unhistoric fights
I fought
up to the summit up to a hawk’s cry up to the sun
snow flurry on an empty street the traffic light turns red
homeless …
a plastic bag drifts
across the sidewalk
workday’s end
a construction worker pees
into the summer sun