
the days are too long
the burnt traffic smells too hot
a star is too close

the days are too long
the burnt traffic smells too hot
a star is too close

sparkling water worlds
cling to hydrophobic leaves
in the morning mist
–Photo by me

A herd of bright clouds
stampede the darkening sky
to escape the storm.
–Photo by me

on and on I walk
pursuing the dream to cast
a real shadow
when the parade comes
bulging buttocks are pried loose
from concave couches

an alien vibe
seeping into our world here
betrays the portal
–Photo by me

slowly, silently
the cumulus popcorn clouds
of blossoms explode
–Photo by me

the jilted lover
walks a solitary path
through the land and pines
–photo by me
The brooding tide of
Worried waves has receded
Look–a golden coin!
A small thrown stone stills
The cricket cacophony
Just before the splash.