up river
a night heron takes
the moon's path
gnats . . .
i walk through
their sunbeam
heat haze
while cicadas drone
i think of snow
heat lightning
the wait for thunder
that never comes
the sound of wings
and leaves touching
shinrin-yoku
forest fire
how quietly
the sun sinks
journey north
in the rear view
palm fronds wave
for a moment
a jet turns my way
dark, dark river
his dust soft
on my fingers
the dead moth
snuffing the flame
the quiet room
quieter
empty pasture
only sunlight
catches my eye
the river
has become dusk
i feel its flow
silence
i touch a star
in the treetops
our pirouette
into my hands
a feather falls
quiet day
a dandelion
at least
old crow
in our eyes
sunset
river mist
i awake
quietly
chamomile tea
and a butterfly
that kind of day
april evening
a friend gives me
the ocean
wildflower seeds
spill from my journal
fire season
as if i were
a blade of grass
first raindrop
giving the sea
taking it back
moon fancy
in the trough
of a wavelet
lilies whisper
dust patterns
faraway the grumbling
of someone's storm
dust-worn trail
my tracks blow away
behind me
afternoon heat
a magnolia's shadow
beckons mine
