carnival–
feeling the seam
of my empty pocket
Category: Issue 05
a blonde girl, wearing
a pink skirt, on a blue bike,
willed the red light green
after his death
the peace lily
blooms again
cottonwood–
a plastic dump truck
in the freckled shade
thunderstorms–
tadpoles swimming
in my porch
the shallows —
waves run in
on tiny feet
raining sunset–
a rainbow fades
into the horizon
surrounding
the quiet bungalow
yellow crime scene tape
thistle field nothing sticks to the stone buddha
with my finger I
trace the delicate pattern
lace wing butterfly
trying not to look
again, she adjusts
her blouse v
eyelash moon
the cobalt sky holds
her silence
the neighbour
wanting a fence
just like the neighbour’s
writing letters home
a yellow-eyed cat hunts moths
beneath the lantern
midday sun–
a tree frog on the french door
turns translucent
nude beach
a man and a woman
collect shells
yard sale
the Venus de Milo
marked ”as is””
on the lake
a stiff breeze adds crests
to half the birds
Reminding myself
how colorful they are
bagging fallen leaves
waning moon–
her half cup bra
slung over the chair
prairie dawn
above a buffalo herd
slowly rising steam
city skyscape
a palm tree shimmies amidst
construction cranes
fishing in the rain —
I let a rainbow trout
off the hook
morning downpour . . .
only the sound
of the temple bell stays dry
a black bird
on the white fence post
sheet lightning
morning dew
in the autumn wind
a newborn’s cry
a copper penny
slips into the dark pocket
of the evening sky
morning stillness
the street vendor
sorts vegetables
morning mist —
the foghorn drowned out
by the waves
deserted town …
the freight train leaves behind
an empty whistle
luffing of wings —
two low-flying geese
riffle the lake
over the brown field
a frisbee barely missing
the airplane
quiet morning
even the poplars are
silent
garage cleaning day
my father’s fishing pole
wrapped in dust
fading light
the old man and
his cracked tea cup
drowsy —
a few desultory flakes
fall intermittent-
ly
steam-filled market
mistletoe tethered
to a meat-hook
my toddler’s fine hair
a spider web
shines in the dawn
on the Indian mound
a collection
of tire grooves
first snow
a passing child
sticks out her tongue