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