Category: Issue 01

dark swirl of starlings drunken thumbprint on the sky many roll as one

cottonwood seed– first one, then another, then a blizzard

frog after frog echoes across the pond rings of moonlight

traceless, the water strider’s path – sky above, sky below

bluebird nest-box: a flash of sky in darkness

fresh-washed hair everywhere I go making trickles

glint of sunlight on a wooden power pole the numbered metal tag

open window the cat dozes half in half out

rattle of the fan- on the windowsill a waxing moon

ladybugs in a mesh bag – storm coming

a few green buds – the turtle pokes his head through the sky

turning our backs to the fire silent night

Little brown sparrow singing goodbye to the sun in the soft twilight

Dew climbed On the closed petals Of field chamomiles.

summer sun- the honking of snow geese on the tundra

morning drizzle- a stray cat cautiously searches for shelter

sudden gust- the rasp of reeds circles the pond

paper prayer- the resting legs of a fly on its proboscis

Dragonfly ascends; moon silent beneath the drum of wings screaming past.

ladybug crosses my eye’s reflection on the window

half a moon pasted on the blue morning sky

a gun in the wildflowers one young man more or less

Near the water in the gravel: One dandelion.

the mint bush transplanted once too often droops

Sharp asphalt fumes Rise in shimmering waves– Summer parking lot.

two sleeping kids — before the grunion run a family leaves

warm summer morning feathers and fluff on the screen lie still as the heat

an inchworm humps and straightens– purple dusk

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

night fishing the small boy hooks a plastic bag

spray from a sea wall rainbow

summer twilight shadows linger on the empty porch swing

White moon, onyx sky No clouds hiding the fierce stars. Tranquil summer night.

lightning bugs reflect a mason jar of silence- gold dust in my hand

empty bait cups scattered along the shore- end of summer

unable to sleep- a neighbor’s wife looking into the street

dark mist a raccoon silently slips into the dumpster

across the rooftop sounds of a baby crying come in on the wind

Cage of a leopard. Not a water drop Remains in the sky.

if nothing else there are these clouds floating away

The moonlit river: Its silver surface broken by a salmon’s splash.

gray September sky bees cling to summer’s remains: some windblown asters

under a grey sky flocks of geese passing no shadows at all

garden candles glow clinking glasses and laughter September twilight

downpour ending – the narrow stems of fallen leaves point to the sky

a flash of white: the hawk flies low across the field

in a city lane caught in puddle the moon

a snipe perches on the no parking sign lingering heat

haloed moon – in the dark field water spills from a silver pipe

a long day… stagnant shadows nailed to my kitchen floor

Two hawks circle rising up with the air currents above placid waters

neighbor’s funeral dandelions ripple vacant plots

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

the Loch Ness a patch of sunlight deepens it

the dark yard – a few grass blades hold the moonlight

Old man at the gate surveys the busy street scene three days now- no dog

Library patron with a sour smile, holding “Divorce for Dummies”

Four or five men dance in a circle. Above them The moon is about to drop.

It’s finally dawn Filling with light, the drapes billow and stretch

black clouds water falling through rocks

mid-October– mustard flowers dot the stubbled field

autumn wind the slow drift of dandelion seeds

raven flaps off the plastic birdbath spilling over

withering cattails pond’s epitaph: cracked clay curls crayfish dig deeper

evening on the terrace- parakeets over green treetops a shade different…

summer’s end a policeman napping on a shady bench

Pine Barrens a blackbird chasing its shadow

after the shower the reflection of the sky in an empty shell

autumn leaves floating through the reflection of autumn leaves

smoke scented air– a squirrel burrows in the wood pile

north wind- steam from the dryer vent follows it

shadowy grove outside the locked ward a moonless night

a bald man ahead of me I wonder about each scar

slowly coming down the spiral of leaves- the evening light

Bird flew away. Hunting-dog is howling In a frozen river.

full moon at midnight light and heat enough for moths lunatic lovers

harbour walk in the oily pool a rainbow

White cloud on the wet sand the seagulls

morning fog the scent of eucalyptus

a withering wind- seated in the falling dusk a street minstrel

first frost- the radiator taps in time with my pen

midnight – a cat laps the moon in a water bowl

heavy rain- the road full of potholes smooth again

fall sunrise the shadows of leaves follow the wind

climbing through fire escape stairs ivy’s red leaves

a blustering day lying in the wet street a bag lady

Through the window The smell of the first snowflakes Came into the room.

late sunrise a walnut rolls . . . down a roof

last rose of faded summer same fragrance

the slow blink of radio tower lights — autumn chill

Chill morning: breathing in the last jasmine, exhaling mist

sidewalk puddle sunk to the bottom a red leaf

faint autumn moon a sheet of newspaper crumpled by the wind

winter sunrise– only pale green moss on the cottonwoods

after the rain a falling yellow leaf lit by the sun

winter sun a goanna stretched out on a fallen tree

fifty buzzards off the water tower winter trees

in the wheelbarrow patches of rust filled with frost

so cold excited dog drags me reluctantly out for a walk

Fine chill grey rain On shoppers rushing past- Inside, we are warm.

dusting of snow a sparrow’s footprints every which way

early snow falling through branches sticks to the buck’s antlers

Late in evening Receiving email Reading them and dreaming.

before first frost visiting the garden more slowly

Seafoam rubs the shore meeting white banks of new snow– Sandpipers depart

the large turkey carved with neat precision … retired coroner

winter solstice — the whirl of dead leaves behind us