Poem Category: All

Garden pond

did the tiger moth just give up

to drown in the moon.

Our home for sale

sparrows peck the lawn

near auction’s end.

Doctor’s rooms

a tank of goldfish

taking their turns.

In and out

of the foster child

the family’s name.

Magpie’s beak

the defiant chirp

of a cricket.

Bathroom tiles

too many ; no not too many

tiny footprints in the talc.

Bring us your driftwoods

tides, ebbs from those unknown lands

bring them all face down.

Sunday afternoon

the merriment of ants

with a butterfly’s wing.

Summer’s end

the unsung cicadas too

beginning to die.