paper wasp
knowing the story
won’t end well
summer grasses
concealing all
the snakes among us
rainy winter’s day
red sweater sleeves
stretched the length of it
storm warning
cidadas fall silent
one by one
false spring
a sprig of kitty grass
clings to my sole
Christmas afternoon
the house returns
to itself
withered field
a prayer for the rain
that came too late
indian summer
circling up
the rocking chairs
in
the time allotted…
mayfly
night light
my cat’s eye holds
a piece of the moon