Trapped

in an old wheelchair
a young girl waits deep inside
the shell of herself

first light-
a sliver of dawn
beneath the door

Laundry

an empty basket-
warm sunlight on this week’s wash
snapping on the line

old bones-
family secrets
in the closet

Wet

barely keeping still-
my fingers brushing across
your wet ruby lips

waves lap the shore-
your hair drying in
the tropical sun

Regret

early autumn leaves-
I should have asked you to dance
the first time we met

sidewalk bistro-
I glanced at my phone
and you were gone

Death

days slowly passing-
the pain of every heartbeat
keeping me alive

raucous crows-
the carcass bears
silent witness

Morning

midsummer morning-
a pair of cardinals perch
in the zebra grass

fields of mist-
a robin’s nest
full of shadows

Harvest

a spreading elm tree-
leathered fingers deftly weed
the cutting garden

flooded fields-
years of harvests
in her hands

Poverty

broken shower tiles
a bare bulb hangs from a chain
in my one room flat

after last call-
neon signs
light my way home

Cats

a bottlebrush tail
the cat readies to pounce on
the bat by my door

cans clatter-
small marauders
stalk the alleyway

Party

under the night sky
conversation and laughter
as the fire dies down

starlight-
good friends and
wine loosened tongues