Difference

I may be different
but I am not a problem
that needs to be solved

fly fishing-
different clouds
under the same sky

Beach

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

onshore breeze-
knots of seaweed
drying in the sun

Storm

howling in the night
a cold wind pounds on my door
straining the hinges

black rain-
branches scrape
my darkened window

Escape

under thick brambles
a stream runs through an arch
in an old stone wall

empty talons-
a chipmunk
avoids its fate

Rain

little galoshes
stomping in puddles under
pastel umbrellas

thunderstorm-
rain shedding off
an elephant ear

Wind

the smell of sea salt
carried on the inland wind
by dangerous storms

flying fish-
on the bowsprit
the sea in her hair

River

pearly morning mist
the crew of eight rows as one
curling flat water

bulrushes-
a passing wake
laps the shore

Heat

my temper flares up
in the heat of the moment
yet I’m the one burned

desert sun-
my ego buried
in the sand

Corvid

a murder of crows
as one silently take wing
into the august sky

turning winds-
a crow flies
before the sun

Houston

hoping against hope
to stem the incoming tide
and still it rises

august-
forsaken
by the sun