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Life’s lenses blurring / make vision and memory / approximations.
She leaves me coffee / a cup with lipstick on it / for me to finish.
Remember what was / imagine what’s possible / create what will be.
A misty morning / wayward winter waterfowl / lined up at high tide.
Words written and left / blue candles waiting in sand / to burn for lovers.
Forbidding facade / cold, cracking, crumbling concrete / grey, grim, glowering.
Warm Christmas Day walk / beautiful cacophony / all cultures and faiths!
Sunset tones / in a cloudless sky / at high tide.
Beyond dusk tableau / the sleeping garden awaits / spring awakening.
The winter stink bug / residing in a glass jar / temporarily.
Pile of random rugs / cacophony of carpets / seek floors to cover
Edges freezing first / water’s middle waits its turn / as cold continues.
Pure water won’t freeze / there must be impurity / for crystals to form.
December debut / warm winter week confusing / April daffodils.
Certain chords, notes, tones / in concert with each other / release our feelings.
Bee’s bumbling ballet / buzzing, bumping blossoms with / beautiful purpose.
The old mill windows / overlook the waterfall / which once moved millstones.
In a time of masks / eyes begin speaking before / our muffled voices.
Live long and prosper / the Vulcan greeting makes sense / touching not required.
The winter blossoms / unexpected tumbleweeds / gather in the yard.
Storied shoes of an / impossibly cool person / in need of repair.
Namaste away! / I see the light within you / from a safe distance.
Telephoto lens / pandemic photographers / social distancing.
Viral reminder / my calendar is empty / no events today.
Heavy falling snow / a soft white noise percussion / on trees, grass and ground.
Sun glowing, diffused / peering through gathering clouds / before the snowstorm.
Unfavored by fate / the recalcitrant raccoon / who walked the wrong way.
Two old cameras / lovingly manufactured / the same year I was.
The autumn spiders / setting traps for smaller prey / entangle humans.
A dead friend’s birthday / my phone keeps reminding me / ghost in the machine.
In garden and life / we must be pruning, weeding / continually.
A perimeter stain / where something was painted pink / then quickly removed.
Bent birches bowing / bearing the brunt beneath / back-breaking burden.
Cicada buzzing / in circadian rhythm / his urgent swan song.
Not to be outdone / the other side of the yard / is now in full bloom.
One day’s not enough / to celebrate all they’ve done / but it’s a good start.
When he had the blues / he found solace in painting / now his palette’s changed.
Three dusty brushes / left by the happy artist / without need to paint.
Between evergreens / the forgotten apple tree / quietly blossomed.
A choice at the end / whether to let go of life / or linger longer.
So thankful / I can choose what I’m / thankful for.
Late autumn reveals / the summer kite whose journey / ended in a tree.
The infinite tones / of a cloudless sky at dusk / dissolve into dark.
Flip levers / fill ovals, make choice / feel power.
Found by hands that bled / the rosebush that hid behind / tall grass for a while.
Warm September rain / quenching garden’s ebbing thirst / at season’s ending.
His soul looking down / saw the shell it left behind / finally empty.
Bicycles / two of them may cast / one shadow.
After a wild night / raccoon makes his muddy mark / fleeing over fence.
Plants wait for planting / watering can sits idle / cold Spring rain falling.
The Prince has left us / without our funky ruler / may he jam in peace.
Unfortunately / so much death, that our heartbreak / is now commonplace.
The lion of March / storming out of April’s room / roaring as it leaves.
Brain bewildered by / blustery blowing bending / branches, buds, blossoms.
Hatred, zealotry / provide new places daily / to send all our grief.
The morning paper / unread as eyelids protest / returning to sleep.
Climate change / brings flowers ahead / of schedule.
Tortured mockingbird / sang that one great song we loved / more than all others.
Friendship’s potential / stolen from me and others / by the thief of days.
Sun painting shadows / freshly-prepared white canvas / of new-fallen snow.

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