Curves

The arc of her back
Revealed in alabaster
Carved by the moonlight

Cobwebs

Rising from my tea
White threads of heady vapor
Clear the dross of sleep

Napping

A lazy Sunday
You, dozing on the white couch
Lovely as ever

Beginnings

We walk the worn paths
Of an unexplored landscape 
The first of many

Shadow

The crook of my arm
Cradling ebony silk
Purring in my ear

Millstone

Old memories found
In the back of the closet
Hiding in the gloom

Contentment

In our bed, half asleep
The years of comfort found in
The space between us

Alone

In the lone white oak
A solitary squirrel
Calls out for its mate

Missing

In a copse of trees
Entwined in vines, a slowly
Rusting tricycle

Rebirth

A desert reborn
As rain coalesces and
Falls to the parched earth