Deception

I’ve changed all my locks
somehow your keys still fit in
and still turn me on

cold winds blow
your call comes through
in the dead of night

Hence

waiting for the train
a low mournful whistle drones
off in the distance

an iron sky
heavy snow falls
on distant peaks

Waste

stolen innocence-
inured to constant violence
and lost empathy

distant wildfires
a false sunset in
the eastern sky

New England

air laced with woodsmoke
thick with a rich silence as
the rain turns to snow

twilight
listening to
the snow fall

Winter

the low midday sun
shadows of geese noiselessly
passing overhead

dancing water
a clingy black shift
of morning ice

Grief

frantically rushing
worried that I’ll be late for
my disappointment

winter’s breath
making the trek
to an empty woodbin

Passing

the hours before dawn
weaving my way back home through
the thinnest of light

gently becoming
as one with
the winter sky

Arid

jagged windblown sand
making a meal of driftwood
in the desert sun

just beyond the dunes
a faint whisper of
false promises

Drought

shutters hang askew
a cracked and peeling screen door
banging in the wind

fading laughter
shards of glass litter
the sun baked earth

Luna

a ring tailed hawk watching
the curve of the crescent moon
emerge from the mist

the full moon
silhouetted
against the night