Poem Category: All

Late night radio
the lace curtains blown in
as moonlight.

Harvest
a row of cabbage heads
pops out of the fog.

Midnight rain
the holes crows make
moving in the trees.

Un-aware
the sky brushes the lake
until the pelican leaves.

Startling a jump
out of the cricket
the Temple gongs.

Unopened
next to your letter
a butterfly on the table.

Midnight
graffiti drying
along the old girl’s fence.

Sunday morning
a tiger moth in danger
of my mower blades.

His first school day
I must wait, pruning the bonsai
in the patio’s sun.

Opening night
over the city
lightning fingers.