Poem Category: Miscellaneous

After the downhill run
so much rests on the engine
finding its steam pounding throb.

By degrees
the glint from the window panes
bedazzled with dawn.

In the kiln
firing the thoughts
I shaped for the vase.

French windows
the rose-petal breeze
following Laurel inside.

Summer showers
a scatter of dragonflies
chasing mates.

Thin mountain airs
letting the wedge-tail eagle
fall onto the dove.

Powdering
over the cafe’ tables
windy Paris snow.

Almost home
in the high cool country
our Pine scented street.

Ankle high leaves
gathered around the park bench
autumn blows.

Coal-mine town
hearts throbbing
between the siren wails.