your photograph
my memory
both fading
the way you used to play
among the trees
solitary hide-and-seek
dawn
the cosmos
plans its day
my urban childhood
canned fruit
even in summer
spider's web
strung high between two tree limbs
everyday art
each morning
my front lawn
a "found art" gallery —
discarded bottles and cans
from night revelers
nearsighted moon
let's stay up all night reading
i'll lend you my glasses
from the other side of the fence
the moon calls
"here i am"
spider
next time I'll be more careful
before entering the shower
just now
a sultry song
on someone else's car radio / /
then the street light changes
from red to green
countless routes
my circlewalk always brings me
back home
my big sun hat
looks sillier on my shadow
than it does on me
after a hard rain
my neighbor's garden spills out
onto the sidewalk
cardinal
thank you for reminding me
to be surprised
who was I
before I was me?
I look at a painting of
a white swan
and wonder . . . .
weary —
2 blue jays fly across my path —
now I am awake
artist friend
in your open window
a bouquet of colored pencils
abandoned bench
longs for the feel of a
soft tush —
moss is no substitute
an empty birdcage
floats down the creek —
in the nearby trees: nothing
Goddess of the East
your ruby necklace
flung across the morning sky
I bow to you
brave little violet
in this moment
you and I
blurred vision
the morning seems
so much grayer
now in our 60s
we vow to wear
less black
Some really small poems — one-liners, most of them written in the last couple of days:
since my last birthday bigger and noisier dreams
pale gray faded ink time to toss your letter
heavy rain a bottle cap floats down the street
my hat flies off and takes me with it
so much happiness but no tail to wag
fighting my pillow through a long nightmare
waiting room anxiety fills the empty chair
listening for you so hard it hurts
precious objects I say adieu to you
another morning another crack in the ceiling
daydreaming about a garden I can daydream in
rain waits with me at the bus stop
muddy day happy day
late afternoon curled into a nap beside you
three times looking back no one is there
solitary day alone with the house plants
between thunder claps I count my ragged breaths
in another time zone my mother also washes her hair
hibiscus tea in a sunflower mug mixing it all up
spring cleaning foolishly discarding an old raincoat
steady rain i can't hear myself think
this cracked sidewalk keeping me on my toes
in your purple clogs you brighten this gray day
