Winter

a warm winter’s day-
snow melt runs in rivulets
down these ivied walls

freezing rain-
english ivy
glazed in ice

Ghost

passing a graveyard
the white lady walks alone
between the headstones

diaphanous-
her burial shroud
becomes the fog

Red

a glimpse of crimson-
cardinals nesting in the
forsythia bush

a wide straw hat-
the old gardener
picks tomatoes

Train

lightning cuts the sky
the hard steel train tracks glisten
in the sudden rain

a train whistle-
the station floor
slick with rain

Cold

far from the cottage-

casual curls of wood smoke

the lake skinned in ice

winter storm-

a family of deer

pick through the snow

Waiting

a cold rain falling 
I sit in the dark waiting 
for you to come home

past midnight 
your car’s tires
on the drive

Angst

you said you loved me-
but some wounds only show up
once the bruises fade

Bruised clouds-
reflections in
the rain barrel

Stone

building my fortress
I bury my emotions
beneath the first stone

cacophony-
late night frogs
in my stone walls

Memories

underneath my bed
photos of my childhood
slowly fading lies

an old cigar box-
sacred relics
of my youth

Morning

april’s robin song-
the morning moon rolls over
and kisses the sun

cat at my feet-
your back warm
against my chest