almost touching the whippoorwill
Category: haiga
millipede
fear spiralling in my hand
In black cherry time
This is what happens as soon as I stop walking, my daily habit: I become habitat.
rain crow
when did the back of my hand turn strange?
green again
this dream of endless mountains
lady’s-slipper
alone in the forest her green shawl
cowbird song
a drop of rain for each newborn leaf
such greedy
red appendages born-again maple
waning moon
the angels didn’t fall they were pushed
spring kitchen
one garlic head’s green tongue
snow in April
a face pressed against the train window
big wind
lost in the small hairs of hepaticas