fringed polygala
4/20
the way day-old leaves prepare for flight
not as bright as my phone
full moon
American bittersweet
on his gravestone low as the sun
picnic for one
in the autumn forest
white hair aglow
a wild lettuce seed
drifts past
this longing
to hit the road
goldenrod
toadstools
let me put on
my rain hat
first cold morning
two caterpillars sleeping
in each other’s fur
first cool night
the whole milky way
between crickets
morning fog
woken by a text
about birds
where the oak
split off from its lost half open mouthed
Fog walker
fog walker the millipede’s carpet of legs
