Poem Category: All

Lead-light windows
only the dawn
crowding our church.

Sea waves
until one rises
merely the shapes of singing whales.

Rain all day
nothing for her
but the romance novel.

Mountain stream
how visible the brightness
you crossed on stones.

After snow
our crushed-brick paths
treading quietly.

dusk stealing
in small shadows
the mountain moves

Long drive home
the sleeping tot’s doll
just nods and nods.

Winter fogs
the tightened pearly web
tightened again .

Zen garden
turn after turn silence
of the green water-wheel.

Old jailhouse walls
a rose-vine goes over
with the dawn.