woken by a text
about birds
Category: people
I have nothing against people. There just aren’t too many of them in my neighborhood.
Lenten moon
the trees must store these shadows
somewhere deep
first bifocals
the blurry line between
winter snd spring
New Year’s day
some leftover darkness
in my mug
shapes in the clouds
a lone kayaker raising her phone
lost time
the scarab remembering
its wings
I dreamed a giant silk moth fluttered into a museum
and joined its life-like relatives on the wall.
I place myself
on the Underground map uneasily, wondering how such ideal points and lines can add up to anything resembling the surface.
Do the inhabitants of the past ever tire
of our clueless questions and our rapacious gaze?
cloudy Sabbath
all eyes are on the bright
heirloom tomatoes
Purely cosmetic.
A found videopoem.
Audubon walk
admiring a pheasant’s
dismembered foot