Poem Category: All

Picnic coming from the trees
smoothing her jeans
she offers me a flower.

First circus
scowling her face
the balloon’s sudden pop.

The scent of rain
our late night hunger
at the motel door.

Temple Buddha
with a lap to sit in
the frog is given the fly.

Silence
slumped in the kindergarten
with summer heat.

A quiet read
warmer when the log splinters
near night’s end.

Sprayed cockroach
soiling a pillow slip
the last one.

Winter sleet
off the white highway
towns in the frost.

So much harvest rice
waits in the rain
for the red hand cart.

Circus
in the ghost train ride
her hummingbird hands.