Category: Issue 06

late edition–
the typesetter eats a plum
beside the presses

blue light
from the laptop’s screen–
a break in the clouds

morning sun …
a new shadow under
the sorrel mare

lunch in the courtyard —
cherry blossom obscuring
the hands of the clock

morning glories
along the chain link fence
two magpies take off

in the silver dawn
rivers of chrysanthemums
flow past my window

starlit night
the scent of sandalwood
from your beard

Floating in the space
Between floor and ceiling
Yesterday’s balloon

sunlight
on the draining board
…a cabbage butterfly

art studio …
an ant’s shadow
traces the peony

pigeons
scatter through the park
cherry blossoms on a breeze

gray morning —
clouds cover the lake
in mother-of-pearl

crescent moon
the child swivels
on her mother’s hip

almost summer–
new snow in all the
potted plants

robins watching me —
watching the cat watching me
watching the robins

shaft of sunlight:
she displays her cardboard
homeless sign

Just across the street
from the “city limits” sign
wild poppies bloom.

the mountain top dimples under the strider’s leg

first frog voices
somewhere in the darkness
petals are falling

spring puddle
the maple leaf ripples
in the sunlight

A silver raindrop
quivers on a leaf tip —
receding thunder.

as if
it had split the boulder
pine seedling

spring harvest …
the first crop of worms
on my shovel

white sails …
a wind has also shaped
the tree

morning traffic
the sun reflects
off the wildflowers

forest walk–
a spider’s shadow
climbs the tree

spring cleaning–
my mother’s name
in a recipe book

a yearling
inching into the field
woodland shadow

Spring
under the palm tree
broken eggshells

mango blossoms:
sprawling at every turn
childhood memories

first light–
the chatter of small birds
everywhere

old porch
the lost art
of sitting still

silver rain—
making the violets
more violet…

cathedral window
a candle in the chapel
lit by a sunbeam

spring carnival:
after much haggling, I win
the laughing Buddha

chinese restaurant–
somebody’s fortune
swept into the dustpan

spring night —
her moonlit zipper curves
from throat to waist

hiddenemyself

morning tai chi
& the first kangaroo
motionless too

spring shower
the umbrellas
in full bloom

city park
Neruda’s statue
in the shadows

my father’s funeral
at last
I meet him

a bus ride
the wind sitting next to me
an old friend

arms depot–
behind the fence
albino deer

skinny dipping
the brightness
of a full moon

marsh wren’s cry
the sun ripples onto the mud

wild roses
the school bell rings
into silence

marsh at dawn
six white egrets
evenly spaced

front row seats
a spot of white
on Othello’s face

dripping mist–
pulls the sky
into the valley

closed
before i get there …
morning glory

sleeping cat–
a soft curl of fog
over the ridgetop

fire drill:
as soon as she gets outside
she lights up

dusk releases fireflies

baked bodies
on Copacabana Beach
vultures circle

AA meeting –
he lipsynchs
the first hour

hearing for the first time
the whisper
of snake belly on bark

pine tops sway–
a shifting dazzle of sun
on the wet grass

a long day,
the child’s silhouette
joins the night

star crushed sky

hitchhiking
an orange moth fills
the emptiness of Texas

curling up at dusk
the park bench sleeper
turns over a new page

traffic light:
the leaves stopped
at the border

roadside stand
the vendor eats one berry
from each basket

down elevator —
ahh —
twenty-seven seconds of nobody!

subway explosions —
on the Rhine ferry
strangers talk

bull thistle sun-
a goldfinch,
with assorted bees-

coming home late the man in the moon

from the shade
of the spreading old elm
street light glow

ripe moon –
my pale hands
in the berry bushes

lilac in full bloom-
bees bumping
into bees

honeysuckle–
even the word
sounds delicious

maternity shop mannequins
even the dummies
have tummies

sweeping up
everything but my
shadow

rock slide–
a passing cloud leaves the sun
where it was

on my lip
again and again
the same fly

summer fountain —
a little boy asks
for his coin back

dad’s grave…
all the flowers
he wouldn’t let mother plant

Zen retreat–
i awaken
with a cup of coffee

still life:
the pear’s
pitted skin

desert lightning
the rattlesnake between the rocks

hedge full of sparrows–
is all that chatter
about me?

warm summer wind
butterflies
tracing hieroglyphs

fuji hidden-
blank pages
in the wind

fourteen summers
the glue remains
of a paper heart

timberline–
breathing hard at the top
of the switchbacks

summer fog —
a gull disappears
into the jetty

overcast —
newly-cut lawn
a deeper green

thunder
the farmers at the credit union
applaud

first rain
the bright colors
of her summer top

afternoon downpour –
a ladybug floats
in a frisbee

sudden downpour —
no one wins
the wet-t-shirt contest

giant dandelion
just big enough
for three wishes

lost in the desert–
the August moon
fills up the sky

exhibition
she wears sunglasses
to view Picasso

shadow of the moon
the same color
as the marble’s

old neighbourhood:
welcomed back by
my graffiti

mountain behind mountain:
the last layer
blends with the sky.

summer rain …
the frog pees
in my hand

even after death
each one is different —
leaning headstones

simpleasurexpectation

short thunderstorm
star clusters reclaim
the sky

dusk trees mist
becoming
one

Monument Valley
The long shadow of the prairie dog

temple gate:
the wind gets in faster
than the devotees

summer holiday
hearing her laughter
in Times New Roman

straight falling rain
she tells him
it is over

light of dawn –
smoke rising from
the candle

the tilt of your head
as you stare out the window
distant lightning

early autumn
rising into falling leaves
a yellow finch

83rd birthday
a new clock
on her wall

grass tickling
my toes
o-bon festival

time with dad–
potato salad
on the headstone

scissors stop –
we talk of war
in her homeland

down the path
i n b e t w e e n t r e e s
the mango moon

dusk
she counts the cars
with one headlight

reading
a romance novel in church
I cross my legs

last rose
how pink
this morning

window closed,
up to the seventh floor
cascading cries of the cicada

dusty road–
Grizzly hair
in the barbed wire