you are why
I waited so long
to become me
last night
the sound of the rain
on flower-shaped stars
light on my phone
someone a hundred and sixty miles away
loves me
quiet pond
a drop of rain and the moon
goes to pieces
listening
to the sound
of a passing plane
fade into the sound of clouds
scraping the mountain
wide-open sky
the more the moon
the less of me
I give her a kiss
and send her on her way...
dandelion
blossoms drifting down
butterflies over my head...
the rise and fall of Spring
you were the sweet rain
someone else
wished away
midnight garden
the honeysuckle scent
of stars
delicate weeds
with thoughts
full of flowers
the sun
in a footprint
filled with water
where Yesterday
came walking through
the prayer you said
when you thought
I was sleeping
back of the house
sun-colored roses
rising..
daisies
burning down
a field
just a ghost
your hand
inside my heart
spirit clouds
the scent of sage
when the rain stops
middle of the night
spirit horses
chasing rain
waited too long
to say goodbye...
dandelion stem
the wind
and a sparrow
waltzing
the way the trees
are sometimes taller
than the sky
you are
my favorite answer
to every question
Spring
I burst out of myself
and take my first breath
he only tells
the guy at the gas station
he's in love
on the fence
one of the sparrows
set on vibrate
how quiet
these bluebells
grow...
almost daybreak
clouds turning the moon
off and on
little patches of night
singing --
blackbirds
end of the road
where I stopped
and the moon kept going..
I teach a young sparrow
a song
his parents taught me
dusk
a field of dandelions
listening for the first star
the woman wearing flowers
keeping me warm in bed...
April
Spring rain
a ghost river
comes back from the dead
to dance
across the two-lane
how hard March tried
to give April flowers
before he left
into a million pieces
this sunburst --
dandelion
I hold an empty egg shell
to my ear
and listen to the sky
Spring
more dandelions
than sunbeams
behind the cat
blue clematis
climbing to the roof
Spring
even the working girls
thinking about love
waiting
for her green eyes
to bloom...
apple tree
the buds
of tiny sunsets
neither one of us
moving
trace of moonlight
dream river
watching the night stars
tumble into the falls
crayon yellow dandelions
coloring
outside the lines
walking into the wild
until the only tracks
are mine
nothing to do
after work...
Sunset
the most beautiful girl
who turned into the sound
of passing cars..
spider
trying to repair
a broken window
I only
wanted a song --
marching band of starlings
March night
I leave the window open
and find Winter
sleeping in my bed
Spring
I watch her brown eyes
turn green
Little Dipper
night-black crow
perched on the handle
first day of Spring
I watch my favorite colors
being born
I steal back the night
from a raven
who stole it this morning
the way the starlings
won't shut up
about Spring
the sun
crashes into a tree
burst of sparrows
shadow of a girl
swinging back and forth
across an old man's feet
just when I thought
I could trust her..
March snow
sun behind mountains
the things I learn
from a distance
the night
you took a drive
and I took a walk
(and the moon stayed up
all night)
next door neighbor's dog
catches a ghost
of a squirrel
March
winter leaves a white flag
on the ground
a mobile of stars
the baby face of the moon
six days old
the way your shape
in the doorway
makes the rain beautiful
alone
in a late night bus
with you
(no stop
requested)
washing machine
out of balance
you and I
huddled together
spinning
Sunday
slips out the door
while Monday
barks
his fool head off
dot of a hawk
motionless
in a moving sky
no snow
(but if you look hard enough
you can see the tracks
where the snow
limped off)
I track
one of my dreams
to the crook of a tree
(and I never
see it again..)
the moon
and my heart
swinging from a branch
of a maple tree
we both climbed as kids
the way
he said things
he didn't mean
the way she meant things
she didn't say
seven stories up
so silent
from behind the glass
I watch my world glide past
on a crow's wings
how loud it was
that little thing
you didn't say
a dozen carnations
for my wife
minus one
(the smile
of a homeless woman)
the way
the stars sound
when it rains
and I listen
with my eyes closed
morning mirror
I shave off the wild
of yesterday
winter sun
who has to be home
when the street lights come on
the color
I thought
I heard
when the sun and I
were talking
mahjong tiles
you are always
the other piece
my day off
I take the bus
the other way
empty light pole
no crow to sing to me
from on high