Writing on water
the egret, looking for fish
makes little foot-notes.
Category: Issue 00
Where tinywords began, in fall 2000.
Three gnarled pines
shade the street corner lot
where laborers wait
old man
in vegie patch
almost a scarecrow
greygreen water
sunlight on weathered pilings
a seagull cries out
Trees don pajamas
Of ostentatious color
Preparing to sleep.
my tiny garden
through warped fence palings
the morning sun.
flaming hills
of golden grass
dawn on interstate 5
A single cricket
sounding a single sharp cry
as the moon appears
A steam plume rises
against slate-grey fog bank-
South San Francisco.
Chipmunks busily
rustling in new-fallen leaves;
the harvest won’t wait.
Bright green moss blooming
on the shed’s grey threshold-
new paint for old wood.
first snow
on the great wall
tourist tracks
Lucy barks, sleeping
Runs dreaming beside our horse
Surf sprays us all
puddles-
at a train crossing
moons shiver
Paper tablecloths,
poinsettias make an arrow
and point to the punch.
waves of light
up and down the tree
fireflies
Mid-day sunset:
azure to jade, orange, rose
over blue snow.
Airport bars are hell
A line of thunderstorms
Make mine a double
dog’s got the door mat-
tussles, drags, fights it
through the fallen leaves
