Sunday patio
the tuck-in sounds
of our dinner plates
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Poem Category: All
3489
no wind sounds
just the willows dangle in
the lazy river
3488
with tourists
she sips an iced green cocktail
under her red sun hat
3487
moon as the lace moves
on the open window…
oh! Laurel is talking
3486
no stars
I cannot count
the fireflies
3485
seeing home
brightens the stream
she drives through
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in the web
due a spring clean–
I remember the cricket’s fight
3483
autumn leaves
the wet road’s
sliding bend
3482
out the window
she cannot love
her birding cat
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feathered pillow
my curved
summer heat