below the waterfall
her tresses a waterfall
over her bodice
Category: Issue 04
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