Quiet

a prick and a push-
quelling my inner deamons
for just a moment

thunder-
reveling in
the sudden silence

Atonement

pleading for my life-
attempting to atone for
the wrongs that I’ve done

morning dew-
my sins cast
upon the water

Ruin

violent currents
slake their thirst with sailor’s lives
by the gates of hell

jagged ice-
ancient wrecks
litter the narrows

Beach

crabs in the shallows-
a hidden sandbar barely
revealed by the tide

onshore breeze-
knots of seaweed
drying in the sun

Floating

a sudden silence
painful accusations still
hanging in the air

tiny monarchs-
weightless
milkweed seeds

Chance

I won’t bet my life
on a roll of the dice but
I’ll take my chances

parting clouds-
hoof prints
in the damp soil

Harvest

a shaft of sunlight-
the autumnal equinox
finally arrives

apple harvest-
lengthening shadows
mark the time

Reprieve

the pen freshly inked
yet hesitating over
whose name is written

falling leaves-
unheard, a hawk
passes overhead

Clouds

rough fisherman’s hands
haul up the day’s catch under
a mackerel sky

circling hawks-
shark skin clouds
promising rain

Homeless

in the stinging rain
waiting by the library
for the doors to open

sleeping rough-
water from the downspout
soaking his coat