Poem Category: All

Railway cafe’
the ordered breakfast
shaped to fit all.

A flash storm
no where for both of us
but Laurel’s umbrella.

Bay tide ebbs
just the usual pelicans
sifting near the shore.

Jealous quarrel
a bruised apple turned
in the fruit bowl.

Temple ruins
a wind crossing the stones
with whistles.

Ah! almost summer
a school boy fishing
from the old wood bridge.

Week day harbour
the glinting of boats
only gulls come to.

Winter is all bare
just the solitary jabs
from a woodpecker.

All is winter
the stillness of the snow
drooping Pines.

Old friends
they have the shape of you
red lingerie drying in the wind.