Stoic

shards of broken glass
strewn deeply across my path
yet still I walk on

moonlit surf-
hatchling turtles
dash for the sea

Chimes

a hot acrid wind
rattles the sand blasted bones
hanging from the trees

cool lemonade-
wind chimes ring
on the front porch

Depression

moving through aspic
living just outside of time
tired and alone

persistent rain-
a raven just
beyond the glass

Memorial

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

Storm

a sudden cloudburst-
the rain soaking my shoes as
I run for cover

hazy sunshine-
sidewalks steaming
from the passing rain

Wind

wind rustles the leaves
and coaxes a dryad’s song
of spring from the trees

whispers-
forest giants
shake off the cold

Wolf

wolves of stone and snow
insubstantial in the light
of the forest moon

rising embers-
mournful howling
in the distance

Vessel

a soul deeply flawed
ichorous and fetid cast
from a broken mold

bathing rituals-
filing ewers by
the riverbanks

Moon

the low western sun-
surrounding the rising moon
a golden halo

thunder rolls-
dark clouds pass
before the moon

Deer

off the mountain road
a wake of buzzards gather
‘round a fallen deer

moonrise-
the fawn waits
in the tall grass