August 31, 2018

almost sixty years
of signing cards with two names —
her pen hovers, stalls

August 30, 2018

a glow the only sign
of the cloud-obscured moon —
we go by memory

August 29, 2018

I can still hear
the fork beating on a glass bowl
as he scrambled eggs

August 28, 2018

last days of summer
the unpredictable flight
of butterflies

August 27, 2018

how long did we stand
looking at each other —
five deer at dusk

August 26, 2018

sloshing around
in the bottom of the kayak —
last cup of summer

August 24, 2018

cheering on
the almost-full summer moon
as if we matter

August 23, 2018

as the sun slid down
we watched a goldfinch plucking
end-of-season seeds

August 22, 2018

monarch butterfly
overwhelmed by the choices —
so many flowers!

August 21, 2018

underground streams
re-routed by grief’s flood —
what does dry feel like?

August 20, 2018

here and then not —
a fox and her mate show us
the limits of sight

August 19, 2018

after the wedding
the wind-tossed trees, the clouds…
it all feels like dance

August 18, 2018

cooler air at last —
crickets fill every fresh space
with their urgent song

mid-August night —
an owl and the crickets
still going strong

August 17, 2018

sparks jump between us
but it’s too hot out for touch —
heat lightning

August 16, 2018

as soon as I wake,
trying to get back to you —
waves on the shore

August 15, 2018

from just this angle
pine boughs leave a space
for the crescent moon

August 14, 2018

which stars
will we navigate by?
I draw you a map...

August 13, 2018

another cloudy night —
crickets tossing the same song
back and forth

August 12, 2018

a fox stares us down
all legs and confidence —
prickly summer heat

August 11, 2018

gentle morning rain —
the world rolls over
and goes back to sleep

August 10, 2018

a hawk flies over
fresh-caught fish in its talons
ripples in the world

August 09, 2018

gentle evening air
looking for a way to be
reborn in song

August 08, 2018

mapping the heat wave —
a pigeon walking along 
too worn out for flight

August 07, 2018

grandmother’s garden —
one stalk beaten down by rain
still flowering

August 06, 2018

late afternoon shadows
slipping down the bedroom wall —
your hands in my dream

August 05, 2018

in the back garden
two monarchs braiding sunshine —
I call my best friend

August 04, 2018

feeling the weight
of not being able to help —
hospice visit

August 03, 2018

you cast off the lines
one foot on land, one on board —
I hold out my hand

August 02, 2018

hotdogs for bait —
you catch one perch so often
we give it a name

August 01, 2018

near the waves and sand
days give their numbers the slip,
seabirds snag the wind