thoughts of him still—
a flush of red
on the cactus bud
The unexpected
has a sweetness, nonpareiled,
love found late in life
twenty dollars in a winter coat
you, making french toast
foggy night
sometimes it’s better
that way
sunday morning–
the ceiling rose flowers
opening to soft shafts of light
in the darkness
the wind blows a star
across the sky
holding the universe
in place
an acorn hidden
by a squirrel
one long beautiful
string of notes–
the blackbird loves me
beneath a strange tenderness
a rabbit stilled …
lynx in blue snow
along the river
ghosts of forget me nots
visiting robin
how easy it is
to gladden my heart…
in the baker’s doorway
a fat dog’s tapping tail
between the rowan & the smoketree
we hid our wishes
we drank coffee on the moon
& we danced
frog song
a heron’s shadow takes
the last note
what he left behind
she knitted into a sweater
warm with wrongdoing
and then she unraveled it
one strand a night
silently in a snapshot
you are saying something
and look wonderful saying it
the fall leaves are gray
and your smile
is forever
she had a scar like
a pink centipede where her
breasts once held the moon
night flaps
against the window
a car faroff
then a dog
then quiet
each daisy
flowering in the meadow
worth five haiku
what price then
your soul
stand among the fallen leaves
wait for the winds
to kick up
and make you a tree again
a bark across the hill
oh your midnight hunger
fox of my heart
wild violets
something so beyond
blue
No one in the park
to admire
the way
the wind sweeps
the leaves away and away
in the park
the quietness of falling leaves
when was i young
as if it was afraid we forgot it
autumn wind
the children gone
horse chestnuts rotting
in the backyard
instead
of the world
a dragonfly
october
she’s all silver light
cashmere soft
and rain
that tastes
like honey
sister’s crayons,
if only
the yellow were big enough
to turn the whole world
into sunshine
is love every day?
asked the little boy
yes, his mother said
tomorrow too?
yes
after that?
yes
OK
uncoiling ..
her scales glistening,
the summer-river
s l o w l y ..
swallows s k y
bright sunshine —
the junkie
mocks the drunk
Someday
I want to scrape
all the poems off the rose
and give to you
the naked flower
in the mimosa
it’s always the songbirds
who gossip
about the grackles
and their blue-black feathers