Perspective

looking at myself
amid the twisted wreckage
of my ruined car

mourning doves-
lost in the white
of the winter sky

Murder

horror on parade
the fires of war march on while
death wields the baton

a murder of crows-
five men lower
their rifles

Hunt

a large gray crane stands
fishing the shallow waters
down among the reeds

wingbeats-
spending ripples where
once was a fish

Truth

dark autumn’s collapse
the strongest and tallest trees
were the first to fall

velvet shadows-
deep hollows
where winter lies

Vision

my view, distorted
looking up from the bottom
of this hole I’ve dug

a rimy pond-
peering up through
frozen cataracts

Falling

standing before you
silent and overexposed
awaiting judgement

whitecaps-
riding the edge
of an avalanche

Hope

swallowing my doubts
returning day after day
in case you wake up

patchwork sunlight-
I brush the sleep
from your lips

Leap

on the precipice
staring out into the void
and back at myself

barren branches-
a great horned owl
spreads her wings

Scorched

before the thunder
a flash of jagged lightning
frozen in the snow

august sagebrush-
ravenous flames
insatiable

Lovers

life can be fickle
hold your lover close tonight
before it’s too late

a darkened doorway-
your soft lips hard
against mine