August 2016 – Page 3

a bottle of night
lost in the depths of the shelf
mislabeled as ink
–
owl’s wings, silent
across diamond
pierced ebony

spreading alder boughs
provide little respite from
the stifling heat
–
impression
of my sole
in asphalt

feeling the glass give
reaching in through the mirror
to pull myself out
–
glassy water
ripples spread
across the surface

fire lights in your eyes
glaring over your shoulder
as you walk away
–
night sidles in
faerie lights
fireflies

joyful innocence
unencumbered by malice
that’s yet to be learned
–
the parched forest glen
desperately awaits
the lightning

pulling on warm clothes
taken straight from the dryer
my guilty pleasure
–
on the subway
the smile of a dog
being rubbed right

my wet business shirt
translucent where it clings to
the swell of your hips
–
cloudburst
unexpectedly
caught outside

freshly mown hay fields
drenched in the long warm rays of
the afternoon sun
–
an deep indigo sky
with you, the Perseids
and a warm blanket

while my life flies by
I can’t help but to notice
yours is standing still
–
frozen in flight
the languid sweep
of a hummingbird wing

loving you out loud
and I’m not even a bit
apologetic
–
trumpeter swans
building their nest atop
a beaver lodge