washing clothes
grandmother's way
mountain breeze
a child walks
the shadows home
august heat
in the harbor
sailboats sound
each gentle wave
only a fish
nibbling a lily pad
morning fog
fern walk
a breeze sits gently
on my shoulder
traveling home
counting the moments
bird by bird
long after
a hawk disappears
the sound of clouds
if not for a crow in the garden midday heat
at my feet
the pinecone stops
squirrel in a tree
late summer
finding in the trees
just enough red
with wine
the sun goes down
among friends
changing tide
a lily's slow curl
into dusk
on his third try
the fish hawk wins
summer games
august
dawn
a
mockingbird
begins
to
warm
up
another flood
a different voice
in the bayou
wearing as much
of as little i can
heat wave
wandering into
a squabble of wrens
monday morning
cut flower
the slice of a stem
through moon-water
berry bucket
big enough to hold
the sound of rain
its rhythms
come ashore as waves
the party boat
dawn
a feather of sun
twists in the moss
new friends old pathways green with laughter
quitting time
i brush the forest
from my hair
passing storm
bits of sky settle
in the treetops
finish line
the sun crosses over
before me
passing time
a few moments sway
in the lotus
foggy morning
one red flower
is everything
as still as midnight
hanging in the moss
the dying moth
deep nowhere
the forest blesses me
with a wren
the sound of heat
everything is
cicadas
summer garden
cathedral bells join
all the green voices
