I'm somewhere
on a road
that goes nowhere
after the roar of the train
coyotes singing
as they cross
for taking
my troubles out to sea
I give a gull
an ocean filled with sun
and part of my sandwich
summer rose
becomes an autumn rose
in just one sunrise
the last sparrow
before the trees
went silent
and someone switched on
the stars
you and I
and a sky of clouds
rolling...
magnolia tree
I can't help but stare as she
gets undressed for bed
pouring from a hole
in the garden hose --
a tiny rainbow
after the storm
the sun tangled
in the windchimes
autumn sun
through the leaves
trailing wildfire
you are the sun
on my shadow
of a doubt
sparrows
pushing the sun
up the mountain
watching
a thin blue line
turn into a day
at the top
of the tree
the branches bend
as a crow comes back
from the moon
blue sage
climbs the shadow
of the fence
ghosts
of dragonflies
rippling the leaves
tiny helicopters
the maple tree's last attempt
to rescue me
shadow
of a maple tree
dripping down the trunk
slowly spreading
across the road
take this poem
and bend the color
any way you want
until it fits
in your mind
wings fan out
after one last jump
and I never
see that grasshopper
again
in my cellar
rows of jars
of summer sunsets
to keep me warm
this winter
I watch the mountain
duck under
the moon
the moment
all the summer haikus
fall from the trees
no sooner
than I bury this dead crow
he's up
on the streetlight
laughing
the way
the last summer breeze
touches my shoulder
as soft as the words
in Issa's haiku
the sunny sky
who lied to me until I was
soaking wet
sundial
I stand in the shadow
of time
slow breeze
the wind chimes
mumbling
a little blood
on my knee
deciphering
the message the mountain wrote
in between trees
I get in my car
and drive in the dark
until the tires disappear
and I'm running down the road
on four paws
how graceful
these summer flowers
who grow and die
just so we can
stare