Run
slow afternoon rain-
long twisted rivulets run
across my windshield
–
mile twelve-
drops of sweat
mark my run
slow afternoon rain-
long twisted rivulets run
across my windshield
–
mile twelve-
drops of sweat
mark my run
trash cans at the curb
the stars at my back as I
walk back up the drive
–
upended bins-
a bandit masked
in the moonlight
unexpected rain-
flowing into the gutter
a child’s masterpiece
–
mountain and sky-
colors blended
on my canvas
a yellow sundress-
the scent of lilac blossoms
carried on the breeze
–
dreams of dawn-
waking memories
of jasmine
gold and silver koi
resting by the water’s edge
scatter the moonlight
–
water lilies-
a dragonfly’s
reflection
falling dogwood blooms-
little bird tell me why you’ve
abandoned your nest
–
morning drizzle-
a robin guards
her empty nest
shards of broken glass
strewn deeply across my path
yet still I walk on
–
moonlit surf-
hatchling turtles
dash for the sea
a hot acrid wind
rattles the sand blasted bones
hanging from the trees
–
cool lemonade-
wind chimes ring
on the front porch
moving through aspic
living just outside of time
tired and alone
–
persistent rain-
a raven just
beyond the glass
it’s far too simple-
these old men send the sons of
others to their deaths
–
a spring breeze-
the fog of war
swept out to sea