ping pong —

he heads downstairs to ask

his other mother

impression —

whirled crush of stems

where the fawn slept

after the rain

everywhere I look —

mushrooms

darkened valley roads

winding their way downhill

to the river

even the spiders

getting all Halloweeny

before October

our care for him

reflected back to us —

sunlight off the lake

under the bridge,

trains pushing on overhead — 

huddled pigeons

a small nest
of shredded tissues —
the mice catch my cold

two ibis chicks

clutching their shoreside perch — 

Alligator Lake

crowded plane home

full of all the questions 

I forgot to ask you

baby birds

mouths agape

wanting it all

White River Bridge —

I think of the Delaware

as I cross over

his car, now mine —

grandfather tells me again

about oil and tires

slowing down

to look at each other —

this deer and I

invocation —

sounds of windows opening

to welcome cool air

anniversary —

three years of disbelief

since you left



(For L.F. on the anniversary of her death. May her memory be a blessing.)

remembering

to watch him while he still

wants me to look

impromptu racket —

we try again to chase

the woodpecker away

envelopes bursting

with grinning innuendo —

our saved love letters

(Special thanks to Daniela Vladimirova (aka @LaVladina) for the use of her photo.)

out for a walk —

the space around me fills with

crickets gone quiet

autumn run —

the dark catches up a bit

with each passing day

back to school —

he pulls his hand

away


(No worries, friends. It's called poetic license; I'm still getting plenty of lovin'.)

we hold each other

while crickets sing their spells —

let summer stay

(thanks to Bryan Katz for his inspiring image)

mid-day rain

so seemingly endless

until it stops

window willow —

filtering the moonlight

while my tea steeps

birthday tradition —

which of his baby pictures

does he look like now?

the last

of the garden vegetables —

tonight’s chili

(HT Steven D. Brewer)

slow lane, fast lane —

what does it matter?

alone in the pool