Category: Issue 04

below the waterfall her tresses a waterfall over her bodice

hiking alone . . . telephone wires bridging the river

a waitress refills the sugar the long day

sunset garden the dust of peaches and baby’s breath

daylight moon- faded chalk stars on the sidewalk

rolling on its back in a freshly mown paddock a white horse

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

dog day afternoon not even a cat in sight

abundant sunshine– a praying mantis guards a rose bush

silent forest hikers wear bells to frighten bears

back and forth leaf shadow weaves over the loom

pears on the sill blushing behind lace curtains

summer drought- next to her rose tattoo a pale blue vein

Athens wind ~ the fish market the incense vendor

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

what a yellow! against the concrete the yellow flower

under the magnifying glass a ladybird’s tears

hot day the brightness of this room

midway lightning the funnel cake vendor draws his awning

midway rain the dunk tank clown dries off

Temple of Zeus — in bright light a stone-carved flower

summer feast a swarm of grasshoppers on the gladiolas

forgotten temple — a yellow flower offers itself

flower market sunflowers facing the ocean

a maple seed helicopters onto blacktop

all I saw of the bird was the bouncing branch he left

since her death only sparrows visit the pigeon lady’s house

a blackout no light remains except the moon

on the spot where the old lighthouse stood… moonflowers

in the rafters a barn owl dances

blush of dusk on the lake- goose wings slap the surface

accompanied by a cloud of seagulls

garbage pickup the tree lawn strewn with candy wrappers

suddenly parting the billowed curtains release a late summer breeze

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

passing clouds — the horizon blurred in summer rain

summer ends turning the last page of a book

Manhattan sunset… the street magician’s first trick

Red hibiscus grows through the twisted chain link fence after the typhoon

first colored leaves boatmen on the river ship their oars

stone church graffitied on its wall a broken heart

a hesitation in the way the branches blow harvest moonrise

your farewell gift of chocolates i taste you once a day

Autumn loneliness the last green tomato falls from the vine

tide pool the sea anemone closes on a finger

near the easel curled tubes of burnt umber- last cicada call

empty parking lot under fluorescent streetlight palm tree shadows

estate sale– the rake lies untouched among brown leaves

morning’s stillness the moon bright white over the street lamps

eating tangerines while I listen to you shower

my cousin’s granddaughters flirt with me at his funeral

great gusts of wind sweep through Yosemite Valley – autumn leaves falling

squadrons of crows returning from the fields  – setting sun –

autumn night my breath passes through the porch screen

morning paper scrolling down the page to click on More

red tail lights I decide we’re going to eat take-out

music box– an old man holding his wedding picture

raindrop circles in the bird bath — eating alone

off season the fair grounds filled with wind

Wind whipped lake one yellow maple leaf riding the waves

autumn dusk a cigarette smolders on the sidewalk

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

the wind and the kids the kids and the wind all the way home

autumn afternoon all around the duck pond shotgun shells

through the window sparrows wage war over breadcrumbs

well dressed mannequins … I turn up the collar of my old coat

through a corridor of wind-humbled trees, I walk toward Mr. Lincoln

broken cup the moon reappears in a puddle of tea

where are they now? my mother and father in last night’s dream

autumn mists the mountain disappears

game preserve newly-planted trees– these empty drink cans

hurricane warning in the uncanny stillness a hazy sunset

leaping salmon sunlight falls to the rocks

Final prayers smoke hanging in the air.

a fishbowl lit by reflected light from a pond

wind at dusk– between fallen leaves a pigeon’s feather

conversation lags- far out on the spindly branch a withered leaf

returning home three hours older– clock strikes twelve

frosty morning across the paddock dog’s paw prints

in my solitude through the brick work this one bright star

First frost – even the green leaves fall

afternoon class a corner darkens near the sunlight

Martha Goldmine rising from the tailings pond a gaggle of geese

after the moth… moonlight drifts through an empty web

hospital entrance rain trickles down the ivy

4:57 the street light begins to fight December’s dead light

typhoon – the bells tolling by themselves

rolling grey fog — a boat disappears with a wave

serpentine the city rain down the sooted windowpane

wind and winter rain the bus shelter chatters

first snow . . . the spider is evicted from my boot

News of a death – snowflakes falling past the window.

By the pasture fence snowflakes melt in my lover’s hand

From the cabin doorway Glancing at Mount Fuji For a thousand years

winter evening home from the party my red dress on the floor

playing army . . . the little boys fight over who’s dead

black out bright lit amish windows

morninglight . . . this slant of snow against the window

snow-viewing the raven tumbles down the hill

lattice window — the lacemaker pauses to gaze at the moon