Silouhette

streaks of wispy clouds
paint dry brushed on the canvas
of the evening sky

shadows of trees-
crickets by
my open window

Afloat

iron seas and skies
sailing into the north wind
my face to the rain

solitude-
my paddle dips
into glassy water

Storm

the sky badly bruised
sitting beneath the mottled
colors of sundown

roiling-
iron clouds
hanging low

Fire

the burning forests-
gaia’s tears turn to embers
borne off by the wind

peals of thunder-
rain falling
on a wild fire

Rain

the patter of rain-
rocking to the rhythm of
the impending storm

on the porch-
the evening air
thick with rain

Luna

weaver of moonlight
roses follow her footsteps
wherever she roams

asleep-
walking with
an absent moon

Azrael

wandering the earth
easing pain and suffering
collecting last breaths

a copse of trees-
bones
amid the litter

Lake

misty morning run-
lake water rolls off the bow
oars dipping in sync

fingers entwined-
a light rain
ripples

Gaia

scrub trees, weeds and vines
she reasserts her claim on
the urban landscape

pottery shards-
new growth rooted
in broken asphalt

Sea

salty air, your hair
blown about your face by the
wind off the water

rising smoke-
below decks
on the ferry.