Category: Issue 25.2

unless
it is too late
summer roses

 

the surprise
of late love
heirloom peaches

 

garden wealth
we force zucchini
on everyone

 

windfall apples
all the promises
I didn’t keep

you and me
a log
that won’t catch

 

after the fire
ponderosa pines
graph the forecast

 

a different cool
than the Douglas firs
redwood shade

 

sleepless
above this heat
the night sky

starlit pond…
a paper boat floats
for light years

night swamp
all that
jazz

 

quiet pond
the dash-dot message
of waterlilies

 

ripples upon ripples
water striders
in the rain

 

lily pad
a dragonfly’s now
syncs with mine

 

night rain
the crickets too
have stopped to listen

Back from vacation—
our finicky roses
blooming better than ever

half-open roses
the soloist’s bouquet
allegro non troppo

wind-dried beach cobbles
the grey seals singing
each to each

 

 

thunderhead—
the crack
of bighorn sheep

village well
the clink-clank of copper pots
in chorus

 

making do
wild ducks dabble
in a roadside puddle

high surf
before the hurricane . . .
plovers huddle in the dunes

cold night
on the dunes
a book of constellations

asteroid belt
a good enough reason
for clutching one’s pearls

 

saving daylight
the translucent leaves
of October

 

smile lines
an old farmer’s
roadside pumpkins

every day
more like a crone
the carved pumpkin

 

last time through
the corn maze . . .
All Hallow’s Eve

 

lingering spirits
Halloween merges
with the Day of the Dead

 

contrails our slow disintegration

political coup
the sand dune takes
a new shape overnight

broken window—
seeing the world
as it is

 

broken walls
a blackbird’s song
braids the wind

following a cricket
into the cairn
eventide

 

playground
within
the
rolling
leaves
a
hollow

childhood friend …
we fill in the gaps
all afternoon

airplane crossing the sky in the toddler’s eyes

 

detainment cell
another game of
peek-a-boo

cold drizzle
when did it start
this talking to myself

slow-moving clouds
a painted turtle conceals
her roadside nest

 

swaying grasses
the wordless refrain
of a lullaby

 

long day
the toddler’s nap
the length of an eyelash

 

older
the same stars
my parents had

 

 

another road trip in me autumn wind

a bubbly effervescence
in her voice
the stream after rain

steel sky
the sudden splash
of a carp

lights of a farm
letting the horse choose
its own path

 

biophony
all the ways
to say grace

skimming the pages
of a new field guide
call of the flycatcher

quail call
the blind setter
frozen on point

 

brooding
over my dog’s death
I miss the first nightingale

 

 

only child
without a child
winter moon

 

 

 

(Originally published in The Heron’s Nest XXVI:1)

 

day of surgery
this sudden interest
in my lifeline

retirement . . .
Monday slips in
unnoticed

another morning
with dust on the desk
tired
of meeting a deadline
that always returns

long workday . . .
I sit in the garage
till the Zeppelin ends

in spite of all my failures forsythia

 

winter light
saguaros hold
the sky

crescent moon
a foal’s whisker bends
toward milk

jacaranda rain
a petal rides
her ponytail

sunrise
sediment settles
in the teacup

 

i think of moths, but
    i mostly think of candles
        the winter solstice

family reunion
the grandfather surrounded
by strangers

dazed elegance
at the reunion party
star-gazer lilies

 

Hubble Telescope
a closer look
at the god particle

 

first Christmas
instructions
not included

 

colder nights . . .
the muezzin’s call
a little late

the year's coldest night
  a barbershop quartet
       warms up

corner pub
as much location
as anything

shucking oysters
the talk turns
to our inner lives

new year’s day
turning over a throw rug
to hide the stains

outside
my morning window
mountains rise
into light & shadow
this late summer day

sap rise
the long gleam
of the river

 

My old kaleidoscope --
   i look for
      the boy

the market value
of my childhood . . .
antiques fair

lone walk…
a street dog’s bark
for company