Poem Category: All

a pot plant tumbles–
heading the storm
rustles of the red leaves

wet weekend…
my slow attentiveness
to rigging the model ship

old motel sign–
no end to its flickers
on the single beds

first hint
of the orange dawn
a trill of bellbirds

passing town–
the sticks and stones
of first rains

office rush
girls rat-haired
in the lunch-time rain