The Yellow Tree
Maybe
Lucy the Alligator
(Driving over)
(words)
You’re Right
Japanese Breakfast
Rabbit Nightlight
The Red Wagon
The Third Morning
(A branch sways)
Wet Morning
Morningtime Rhyme
Mt. Baker View
(The October bee)
(Walking the dog)
(Reading haiku)
A Garage in Ohio
Old Love
The Nightwatchman
(I keep returning)
At the Bus Stop
A House in Maine
Crowded Meadow
Ohio Tornado
The Yellow Tree
(A deer)
Rumi’s Book
(Monday morning)
Monday
For Winter
The Tuba Tree
(A wet dollar)
House in the Woods
(November)
(A white cat)
(The moon)
Maybe
you
could fly
a tall kite
so I could see
where you are
Lucy the Alligator
Around
folding chairs
we finally got
to pet her
surprised
how soft
like a moth
or a wave
Driving over
chesnuts
popping
in the driveway
words
like apples
waiting in the air
to be ripe
You’re Right
There is a best way
to wash an apple
picked off the tree
hold it like a ball
roll it downhill
over the wet grass
Japanese Breakfast
A bowl of rice
a book of haiku
suddenly
I’m late for the bus
Rabbit Nightlight
On the trail
all I see
a white tail
The Red Wagon
The red wagon
filled with dirt
a shovel and grass
pulled across
the yard
leaving
tulip bulbs
planted
The Third Morning
I remember
open the gate
carefully
it’s okay
the spider web
is gone today
A branch sways
an owl landed
in the gloom
Wet Morning
Finding
footprints
a cat
a dog
a man
walking
to where
he parked
his car
tires leaving
a dry square
on the tar
Morningtime Rhyme
The window is open
the shades are drawn
in a high-ceiling room
the lights are on
Mt. Baker View
After throwing away
a carload of trash
at the dump
turning on Slater Road
to go back home
there’s the mountain
a cone of white snow
taller than anything
The October bee
makes due with
dandelions
Walking the dog
a cat hiding
behind a pumpkin
Reading haiku
and you appear
a sunny day
A Garage in Ohio
Everytime we went
to the landlord’s house
to pay our rent
we saw where
our money went
tall white pine
beside the garden
boards moving up
beams and walls
built with our help
getting bigger
every month
Old Love
He sees old love
getting Food Stamps
holding a baby
while he’s there too
with his family
The Nightwatchman
Something wakes me
each morning at 3.
I clock in. Everyone’s
asleep, even the dog.
Nothing happens outside
but a passing car once
in a while. An hour
goes by, I toss and
turn and listen.
It might be raining
windy or utterly still.
The only thing I’m missing
is sleep.
I keep returning
to the place we met
hoping to see you
the ground is cold
At the Bus Stop
Three girls
holding pumpkins
on their laps
A House in Maine
Steps painted
white as snow
stacked against
the wooden house
walking up
to a door
Crowded Meadow
I’ve been in
this dream before
like a flower
waiting for
that one bee
Ohio Tornado
It’s on the way
piling the sky
into a wave
over the I.G.A
The radio
warned us
waist tall
sunflowers
spin and bend
petals milling
in the wind
I planted them
beside the kitchen
to grow and look in
but now, staring
at those clouds
approaching,
there is nothing
more than knowing
they would be
left outside
while the window
thrashed in rain
The Yellow Tree
half its leaves
have flown
onto ground
they are ducks
around a puddle
scattering in wind
A deer
on the sidewalk
orange streetlamps
Rumi’s Book
Letting a few
drops of rain
land on the page
Monday morning
a puddle is waiting
on the way to work
Monday
eating from
a can of green beans
water running
off the fork
For Winter
flowers
plowed under
in chocolate rows
The Tuba Tree
turns into brass
then with a blast
all the leaves fall off
A wet dollar
painted on the street
unpeeling it
House in the Woods
Sunday walk
below the branches
a shower of rain
a squirrel
in the rafters
further on
in another room
startling an owl
it flies deeper
into the leaves
the chimney beside
a green window sill
November
our house
in a raindrop
A white cat
licking ice
on the porch
The moon
shutting her door
only a sliver of light
