Moving
northeast—
sky
feather
fanning
out. 7-17-18
Last
night’s rain
drops
from
myrtle
blossoms. 7-17-18
First
sun
is
broken by honeysuckle into
yellow
pieces. 7-17-18
My
resolute, stalwart friend is sick now.
He
writes, “I look forward to meeting Maya one day.”
An
anchor thrown into the future. 7-17-18
After
the rain—
puccoon,
wood poppy—tall,
floating
on the cool morning air. 7-17-18
Three
vultures
circle
overhead.
One
is small. 7-18-18
The
numbers at the end
of
the poems have gotten out
in
front of me,
me
still writing back in
the
olden days. 7-18-18
Morning
wren and mourning dove
sing
counterpoint.
Catbird
and I enjoy the music. 7-18-18
Where
does it go, the light
coming
through honeysuckles leaves
after
it comes into my eyes?
A
dance of moments as we turn on gravity’s whisper. 7-19-18
Leaving
the madness
inside
with the news.
Outside
the world
moves
as it should—
sharp
bird calls
in
the soft breeze. 7-19-18
All
new this morning,
rosy
sharons in a ring
touched
by bees. 7-19-18
Catbird
on the hammock
looks
at me, also gray and black.
The
feathered shawl. 7-19-18
Cortright
asked for shadows.
I
gave them to Kent,
the
second attempt. 7-19-18
Above
thought
bubbles
rise
open
with colors,
words. 7-19-18
“Who
are you?” catbird asks from the myrtle.
Who
am I?
A
fellow breather of air, threading moments, tiny beads
on
the long necklace of memory. 7-20-18
Fortunate
Garden
Washington
flowers,
Hannah’s
flowers
dance
on the screen, perfect
compositions
of joy.
The
old one, new and loose as a summer gale,
blown
from a Renaissance artist here
to
waiting hands ready to paint
with
breath. 7-24-18
Maya’s
dark day recedes.
The
rain stays,
but
sadness lifts with the promise
of
a wrap and liquid watermelon. 7-24-18
After
days of rain,
the
earth breathes.
In
the morning sun—
dust
and decay heavy
on
morning air. 7-26-18
From
the other side of morning,
waves
of cicadas dry out
one
at a time. 7-26-18
The
honeysuckle volunteer
in
a plastic pot reaches for the table.
A
rain response. 7-26-18
Three
kids
happy
to see each other
bounce
up the stairs. 7-26-18
Moved
by the air,
creepers
shed their dried bits,
whole
again in intent if not in form. 7-26-1-8
Morning
conversation with catbird.
He
speaks.
I
listen. 7-26-18
Tim
Rice
My
old classmate put away in a home.
A
year ago he posted to a photo of my cat
resting
on my arm, “Aww.” 7-26-18
Pink
spiral leans this way.
No
sun yet to pull her gaze away. 7-27-18
The
perfect morning
down
Soapstone
yellow
light
through
green trees. 7-27-18
The
thick air
belongs
to cicadas—
their
summer world
rising
and falling
in
waves. 7-27-18
Three
kids.
Three
screens.
One
is on the bed. 7-27-18
Speaking
up over
cicadas,
the long
winded
redbird. 7-27-18
Grape
ivy moves across crab apple,
dead
now,
assaults
the maple. 7-27-18
The
last of buttermilk cloud
moves
east
in
a blue sky. 7-27-18
Moving
air,
moving
catbird,
a
streak of chipmunks. 7-27-18
Who
is awake?
Honeysuckles.
Cicadas.
Wood
poppies, yellow,
but
still standing tall. 7-28-18
Does
the light learn anything
moving
through honeysuckle leaves?
Shared
giggles? 7-28-18
The
moment of sideways sun
is
gone. Catbird speaks,
sun
on his head. 7-29-18
Skipper
on the sharon,
carpenter
bee
moves
on. 7-29-18
Unknown
winged insect in the plant bottle.
I
lean the bottle over under the hammock and he
follows
the water out the opening.
There’s
a story here. 7-29-18
Moving
like the wind
on
the beach, cicada calls
surf
the trees. 7-29-18
Heavy
with color,
red
bird rides
a
red wind into
the
green tree. 7-19-18
On
the speaker phone,
happy
voices playing
Animal
Jam. 7-29-18
Red
bird’s voice
is
as sweet as
the
warm blue sky. 7-29-18
Carolina
wren is repeating red bird’s
two
note statement.
Counterpoint
in two dialects. 7-29-18
Tufted
titmice
preen
under grape ivy
mountain. 7-29-18
A
long snake on the maple branch rests
after
his jump down from the roof.
He
tastes the air with his tongue. 7-29-18
Sweet
morning moist
with
night’s perfume.
A
bird pips and then
a
long wait. 7-30-18
The
sky has come
all
the way down this morning.
We
breathe moisture,
soft
and gray. 7-30-18
Who
needs the news?
Outside
wood poppies’
last
leaves yellow. 7-30-18
Mid
summer
hibiscus’
first leaves
yellow. 7-30-18
On
the orange flagstones,
closed
sharons,
rolled
tight as cigars,
lavender
now. 7-30-18
