old corncrib

orderly kernals of light on the bare floor

fresh paint

a butterfly lands on the ladder to have a taste

leafprint in concrete

I wouldn’t have hesitated to step on the real thing

cast-iron porch chairs

the paint may be chipping but what fine shadows

traveling together

the Norfolk-Southern logo and a graffiti tag

a line of balloons

beside the campus elms bobbing drunkenly

slow Saturday

the quarry trucks sit spotless beside the aggregate

after months of snow

the rust on the drainage grate is in full spring bloom

the wooden footbridge

connecting the snowy streambanks is already green

phantom road

dead sharp-shinned hawk

only its inner eyelids have fallen shut

the long shadows

move silently where horses once paced