Night

rains of twilight passed-
crickets outside my window
singing me to sleep

tv static-
the low hum
of a ceiling fan

Poverty

broken shower tiles
a bare bulb hangs from a chain
in my one room flat

after last call-
neon signs
light my way home

Cats

a bottlebrush tail
the cat readies to pounce on
the bat by my door

cans clatter-
small marauders
stalk the alleyway

Roses

crimson rose petals
clinging to a withered stem
slowly turning brown

tea rose petals –
the crystal bowl
overflowing

Death

my blood in the sink-
I should be panicking but
I can’t feel the pain

tendrils of fog-
undisturbed by the hooves
of a pale horse

Kanashibari

awake in the dark
so transfixed by the vision
I can’t make a sound

the crickets silenced-
a specter looms
o’er my footboard

Strangers

sitting on the train
I look across the aisle and
see you as you were

hot city streets-
a stranger wears
my memories

Time

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

trapped in amber-
mountains are as
grains of sand

Crime

reliving the past
what lengths I wouldn’t go to
for absolution

dogwood blossoms-
blue jays raid
a sparrow nest

Emptiness

nothing left at home
save the old chair and sofa
that I brought with me

vacant memories-
cobwebs cling
to empty shelves