Lake

a whitewashed rowboat-
dark supple fingers lightly
crease the still water

concentric rings-
arrhythmic
dripping

City

asphalt reflections-
roots of concrete, steel, and glass
descend from the mist

the muted city-
not quite rain
falling

release

lingering aimless-
attempting to cross in vain
the border of death

almost free-
weightless and yet
still tied to the earth

Waiting

a long delayed train-
remnants of morning rain
steaming in the sun

the sun long set-
a silent queue
of glowing screens

Starlight

cocooned in afghans-
bright remnants of creation
streak across the sky

deep desert night-
the great arc of stars
lights the horizon

Traffic

highway median-
long neglected grasses sway
with the passing cars

towering light pole-
a red tailed hawk
spots it’s prey

London

the lamplighter’s mac-
a thin scrim of london fog
coats the cobblestones

horseshoes-
echoes off
stone walls

Lake

light wind in my sails-
her long supple fingers glide
through tranquil water

soft water-
stillness arrives
on silenced oars

London

wrought iron street lamps-
ancient cobblestones vanish
in the rising fog

echos of hooves-
a hansom cab
lost in the mist

Pastoral

an old farmer’s wall-
nestled in amongst the stones
sprigs of verdant moss

clanking bells-
a worn cowpath
leading home