History

bitter grievances
at the holiday table
long past time for peace

unrelenting
a winter river
choked with ice

Winter

the low midday sun
shadows of geese noiselessly
passing overhead

dancing water
a clingy black shift
of morning ice

Passing

the hours before dawn
weaving my way back home through
the thinnest of light

gently becoming
as one with
the winter sky

Arid

jagged windblown sand
making a meal of driftwood
in the desert sun

just beyond the dunes
a faint whisper of
false promises

Weary

bone tired, weary
driven forward all the while
dragging this baggage

shimmering heat
an old prospector
pulls at his burro

Escape

stumbling badly
pausing on the precipice
of complete collapse

smooth sailing
seeking freedom
from consequence

Unease

alone on the sea
caught in a tempest’s fury
far from her home port

an unfamiliar bed
the southern cross
in the night sky

Castles

the Scottish highlands
a castle ruin, moss, and stone
rising from the moors

falcons take wing
moonlight ripples
on the loch

Transitions

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

curled sepia photos
seeds taking root in
freshly turned earth

Deluge

walking through the storm
cold rain running down her back
her umbrella, home

hammered tin
the slow drip of rain
through the roof