late summer moonlight

and the feeling that a fox

was here a minute ago

we rip out the ivy

but it always finds a way —

last days of summer

I look to the sky

to avoid truly seeing

huddled death at my feet

rain starting softly —

every friend I think of

it’s too late to call

open the windows —

the trees are gently laden

with sleeping birds

owner's manual —
my father's marginalia
the last of his voice

(ht: TF)

late summer flowers

with their silent refrain —

it’s never too late

appreciation —

getting ready for bed

such summer sweetness

weekday Meetinghouse —

a different feeling

to the silence

I see you seeing me
and lose count of my laps —

flip turns at the pool

last days of summer —

we cut the old lilac

all the way back

cricket choir —

each night’s song

a little quieter

slipping in sideways —

we try to leave the moths

outside

grapevines

finding the trellis

with evident joy

not knowing how

to tell weeds from flowers —

we let it all grow

learning to whistle —

the sound of an old rulebook

run through a shredder

passing each other

where the road narrows —

only our eyes meet

light from a full moon —

reflecting on a day spent 

sneaking peeks at you

trying to hear

if that cricket is inside

or out

the geese mothers

count their goslings again —

misty morning lake

faintest of stars —

from the corner of my eye

I think I catch you

wisteria tendrils

curling back on themselves —

mother’s quiet home

late summer sun —

the scent of our boy’s cologne

even after he’s left

still dripping —

the long curves of flower stalks

bowed by the rain

shelter in place —

birds huddled together

amidst flood warnings

leave the dead branches

because the birds like them —

make room for me. too

summer vacation —

the birds start their songs

a little early

vacation photos —

for just a moment I see

my smile in our boy’s

heat lightning —

the crickets work to get

their songs synched up

a lone buck at dawn —

staring at me until I

am the one out of place

in partnership —

wisteria and rooftop rain

growing up, flowing down