rain after drought —
gratitude even
for the sound

in or out?

a spider waits by the door,
not telling

reminding me

to lift my eyes again —

full moon

we walk the towpath

our long years of friendship

floating after us

geese with their feet first,

wings backing wildly —

splashdown on the pond

the waxing moon waits

while we sing one last song

after another

revelation —

the unbroken bones of trees

as leaves fall away

last night’s spider

still casting a shadow

this early morning

bike ride home —

smiling until I hit

the first bug