Ya Wonder, a poem


The way the sky makes crayons in the evening.
The way stars simply don’t mind a thing.
It’s the way the frost was Dylan just two weeks ago.

And Saturn spins at the burger joint in town.
I’ve heard cars fly in rain here.
You hear things. Ya wonder.

You repaint the bedroom like a Vegas Versailles.
You dream big. Then smaller…until that fire opal
finally drowns.

And your sky becomes paper plate and rock candy
hanging from strings.


Photo: earthsky.org


At the Farmer’s Market, a poem

farmer's market 50

at the Farmer’s Market
she has to be
in her nineties,
a knapsack laden
with fruit,
in those hands –
two cherry tartlets,
her eyes roaming,
roaming, her red
scarf aflutter
with birds


Photo: miamiandbeaches.com

Spring Memories


I could tell you
of my love of
each spring –

The cherry
speaking up.

The moon’s
first swim in
the pond out

pausing for
muffins and

a stray dog to
introduce to the
summer rental.

And the bird
with one note –
bless it.

How do we
bear summer
when spring
is so rich with
the good and
the good?

Photo: blazingcatfur.ca