dark swirl of starlings
drunken thumbprint on the sky
many roll as one
Category: Issue 01
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