When Nothing Happens

 

How far have we gone?

How corporal is the distance?

The Crow

 

 

Shame about the old bird

sitting on the beaten post.

Old bird, old ways

wearing stolen feathers.

Should we pity the plagerist

or let her be flattered by the false praise?

Old crow, old mimic,

don’t turn around

someone else

is stealing your feathers

and the coming winter

is blue cold for a bare soul.

 

 

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Still Singing

 

She couldn’t change what never came

with its promises beyond reach.

On the Edge

The building’s shadow has receded.
The chrysanthemums
are in sun again.

The Visit

 

The view was a brick wall

with a crack of horizon.

“It faces west… I don’t need

more sky or stars.”

Between Trees

There are squirrel tracks
imprinted in the first snow
cutting the dimensions of sparks.

0.29 Cents

There was a moment when
you could buy a small brown bag full

Waiting

 

She’s not the wind that rushes
past traffic and pushes bruised

Comparing Angels

Two women sit at a café table.
One complains of an encroaching debt,

I Live Between Two Rivers

I live between two rivers
and I lie on a beached bed.