riverside peacocks

playing catch and release

with the light

pale and all angles:

no more jumping

from this spider

those white blossoms −

fallen before I had the chance

to ask their name

her daily words

of generous appraisal:

“it’s perfectly good”               

(In memory of Weedie Stokes, whose memorial meeting was today... her children said she was both generous and frugal, and cited “it’s perfectly good” as a family mantra of sorts.)

a new note

in the symphony −

onion grass

at day’s end,

couples asking each other:

did you see the moon?

every breeze

carries birdsong

along with it

closed for the day

missing out on the moonlight —

tulips

blossoms tumbling down

to reveal the green beneath —

cold snap

Brave

The single goes on sale today. #justsayin

the sound

of my heartbeat in my ears —

first bike ride of spring

watching from the porch

as petals cover the walk —

nested snow shovels

a soft soaking rain

answer to the tulips’

prayers

after the rain —

gutters lined with

cherry blossoms

heading north

only to see spring reel

back into itself

recital season —
emergency shopping
for dress shoes

magnolia petals

spilling afternoon sunlight

as they fall

looking great now —

the lilac we cut back

to almost nothing

telling it again

that story about the wind —

daffodils

rain at the window —

tomorrow the creek will sing

a new raga

(for Shravya)

ink-black tadpoles —

never any less

miraculous

mapping

the storm in my head

by counting the miles

spirea waiting

to jump in and double-dutch

with forsythia

bike wheels

with cards in the spokes —

here comes spring!

recycling day –
the wind pushes last year's leaves
into the street

before the big test

she patiently teaches me

how to skip stones

my father coming home

“Any good mail today?”

teaching me hope

(Written as my parents drove home from FL to upstate NY.)

after the death —

wide open days choked with

wait, where was I?

(In memory of Anne Jablow, beloved friend, wife, mother, and fourth grade teacher.)

the cold air returns

to find us with our heads down,

cheering each green shoot

leaving the grocery store —

a man with a bright bouquet

and a shy smile