Temple

a smiling buddha
round belly worn smooth by
hands of thousands

pagoda doors-
stone steps cut
in the hillside

bird

in a copper bowl
beneath a blooming dogwood
a robin splashes

sudden showers-
a crow flies
through the rain

Photos

dark attic corners
within an old cardboard box
dusty memories

summer boardwalk-
sepia toned
memories

Leaves

I am but a leaf
countless among the masses
on the tree of life

approaching autumn-
spring leaves
begin to fall

Time

a rain-soaked highway-
the skeletal hand of fate
cuts another thread

trapped in amber-
mountains are as
grains of sand

Reincarnation

a thousand lifetimes
wasted following the path
of least resistance

spring dawn-
first sunrise
seen again

Alone

a table for one-
looking for some privacy
and a little peace

bryant park-
a blanket
dewy grass

Bistro

a sidewalk bistro-
over my coffee judging
everyone I see

al fresco-
sipping coffee
headphones on

Squirrel

one hapless squirrel-
suddenly half the city
plunged into darkness

pulling weeds-
squirrels drop acorns
on my head

Hiding

this fool’s mask I wear
hides the truth so no one sees
my deformity

moonless-
a dim glow
in the attic