Shoreline

as the tide comes in
the quiet surf erases
our mingled footprints

salt breezes
clammers digging
in the wet sand

Runnels

a hot summer morn
in the curl of a turned leaf
the gathering dew

a ringing anvil
collecting
beads of sweat

Future

flooded rice paddies
on the roadside sheaves of straw
drying in the sun

high spring sun
nimble fingers
sowing wheat

Present

living day to day
ignoring where I’ve been and
what the future holds

frost on the grass
awake in the dark
breathless and immobile

Lost

seeking your guidance
for I cannot find my way
alone through the dark

an eerie green glow
eyes wide open
in the darkness

Crimson

the low morning sun
behind a red crepe myrtle
it’s branches aflame

fresh snow
blowing alight the coals
of last nights fire

Shock

distant sirens wail
slowly I realize that
you’re not coming home

a warm shower
startled awake
by the telephone

Fire

well seasoned hardwood
crackles and hisses as it
slowly turns to ash

rolling seas
a cigarette cupped
against the wind

Transitions

freshly cut flowers
in a wreath of fallen leaves
laid upon your grave

curled sepia photos
seeds taking root in
freshly turned earth

Luna

a slice of the night
carved out of a starless sky
gleaming, motionless

chaff in the wind
burnished brass
low on the horizon