Author: Ed Markowski

prairie sunset
the glow of the cattleman’s
branding iron

snow melt…
her lost mitten
covering the crocus

spring cleaning
the last mound of snow trickles
down the driveway

false spring…
the candidates bow
in unison

a dinner bell
rings & rings…
evening snow

winter sunset…
this sudden craving
for a hand-picked peach

Martin Luther King Day…
a watermain breaks
on his boulevard

toll road
the hitchhiker’s thumb
knee high

white out…
a car horn blares
the yellow rose of texas

christmas eve service
the boy behind me prays for
another mother

the lustre
of a moonlit snowman…
winter begins

crime scene
a cluster of
crushed begonias

the x’s missing
from above her signature…
autumn rain

harvest moon
our newborn’s cry floats above
the cornstubble

reflecting pond
the blind child
tosses a stone

autumn rain
the politician poses
with a shovelful of mud

a frown
drawn on the kool-aid pitcher…
summer’s end

lunar eclipse
i fall for
the hidden ball trick

garden web
a butterfly clings
to the scarecrow’s lapel

midsummer dusk
the splat
of a water balloon

morning rush…
the warbler leaves us
a fragment of its song

a patch of blue
on the scarecrow’s shadow…
first crocus

winter reverie
the faint scent of bubblegum
on an old baseball card

moonshadows
a rabbit emerges
from the snowman’s top hat

winter moon
a dusty seventy-eight
sits on the turntable

Indian Summer
the flip side
of a hit record

early autumn
rising into falling leaves
a yellow finch

thunder
the farmers at the credit union
applaud

dad’s grave…
all the flowers
he wouldn’t let mother plant

hitchhiking
an orange moth fills
the emptiness of Texas

nude beach
a man and a woman
collect shells

a long fly ball
arcs above the moon…
summer deepens

bed rest
a spider crosses the ceiling
in eight seconds flat

lost
in a field of sunflowers
the sun

afternoon heat
the slow blink
of the bullfrog’s eyes

red grapes…
the many hands it took
to bring them to this table

abandoned stable…
wild roses bloom
along the split rail fence

pitching horseshoes
after the storm . . .
a double rainbow

birthday balloons
the one that doesn’t burst
blows away

planter’s moon
the milk white arc
of her nine month belly

zen garden
the monk’s shadow
the monk himself

hearth light…
dad’s shadow sharpens
against the frosted window

winter midnight . . .
a fresh foot of snow
lightens the sky

winter calmness…
even on the child’s see-saw
an even coat of snow

black out
bright lit
amish windows

after the moth…
moonlight drifts
through an empty web

broken cup
the moon reappears
in a puddle of tea

home from the steel warehouse
dad’s lunchbox
filled with baseball cards

Autumn loneliness
the last green tomato
falls from the vine

Manhattan sunset…
the street magician’s
first trick

sultry night…
the thin white stripe
left by a spaghetti strap

on the spot
where the old lighthouse stood…
moonflowers

midway rain
the dunk tank clown
dries off

midway lightning
the funnel cake vendor
draws his awning

friday the 13th
the clang of the farrier’s
rounding hammer

kite’s aloft
the young boy pulls free
of his father’s hand

summer twilight
sampling the peaches
at a roadside stand

morning moon
the nooks and crannies
of an english muffin

at the end of a blind date
the soft clicking
of our eyeglass frames

winter carnival
a thin frost sparkles
on the ice carver’s beard

winter moon…
the hustler chalks his cue stick
with a flourish

gale warning
two gulls surf
the waves above the lake