gypsy moths

finding each other
without mouths

mountain

aficionado
of clouds

in the road
teach me your kung fu

my shadow
taking the shot

mud dauber nests

the eyes go back
to being shadows

studying the markings
of bark beetle larvae

probing the beebalm’s red forked tongues

the acrid odor / of a stinkbug’s fear / kitchen spider

haiku: “big fake stare / the caterpillar is tired / of being a caterpillar”

now the leaves get more of the sky than just sunlight

I take a break from organizing my files