spring equinox

the sound of a bat
taking a drink

moonlit forest

the giant
my father was

insomnia moon

an old face mask
in my coat pocket

a screech owl’s descending quaver

I forget who I am

heat lightning

the meadow’s whisper
of crickets

on a path

swallowed by forest
horned moon

Four months away

even the full moon isn’t
where I left it