Sorrow
stilling the waters
the taste of salt on my lips
from kissing your tears
–
the loon’s cry
rising sun over
a winter lake
stilling the waters
the taste of salt on my lips
from kissing your tears
–
the loon’s cry
rising sun over
a winter lake
relaxing at last
working out in the garden
under the moonlight
–
high silver clouds
a beaver breaks
the water’s surface
a resting mayfly
the dimples in the water
signaling a carp
–
spreading ripples
a gossamer wing
on the surface
blazing streaks of fire
tearing through the winter sky
dying as cinders
–
the predawn hours
an intrepid visitor
on my doorstep
on the autumn breeze
woodsmoke and conversations
wafting through the air
–
wetland banter
summer evening
an open window
a bottle of night
lost in the depths of the shelf
mislabeled as ink
–
owl’s wings, silent
across diamond
pierced ebony
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
pulling on warm clothes
taken straight from the dryer
my guilty pleasure
–
on the subway
the smile of a dog
being rubbed right
brief is our passage
across the river of time
into the unknown
–
oak saplings
from acorns
never unearthed