Zen

perfectly flat stones
skipping on a gentle arc
across the water

a quiet splash-
willow branches
touch the water

Impermanence

on this lonesome road
my only legacy the
footprints in the dust

empty shells-
ocean waves
wash the shore

Desert

ghosts walk the streets of
an abandoned mining town
out of the shadows

desert shade-
sand dancing
across the road

Translucent

anger in the air
reflections in the window
barely ghosts of us

cat tails-
the calm surface
minnows just below

Arc

the early morning sun
walks amid the wet grass and
turns the dew to gold

twilight-
memories of dreams
most elusive

Transition

near enough to see
daylight fading to the point
where the rain begins

tending the garden-
raindrops warm
on my neck

History

continuity-
ancient traditions upheld
for generations

lichens on stone-
the huron pine
adds another ring

Workers

fields of wildflowers
fastidiously tended
by hard working bees

summer afternoon-
nectar turning
to honey

Ocean

the sun reaching down
tenderly kissing the edge
of the atlantic

sandpipers-
morning waves
kiss my feet

Driven

quarter past midnight-
the breath of the city through
my open window

leafless trees-
darkened cars through
the driving rain