Poem Category: All

the old man among the tides
takes off as a pelican–
as light as air

green pastures
udders filling
cud by cud

the swishing cow
her many darts of flies
brought to the barn

Monarchs
picking the river stones
to rest their migrations on

hair knots–
the salts of sea water
her Mum combs–through

insomnia…
still the quiet
to reach

a desert rain
still urgent
to seed