|
A green sprig
pokes above the edge —
eaves trough.
Leaves in the back yard,
a frisbee almost buried.
Rear car window —
"Wash Me" handwritten
in stuck-on dust.
Dirty dishes
spread on the kitchen table...
vase of daisies.
A boy in his room &mdash
his stuff on the floor.
Red ants swarm
over a popsicle stick —
driveway curb.
Click here for Notes
The faint thump
of a distant basketball —
autumn evening.
Canola field horizon —
a glint of setting sun.
That area
in Grandma's back yard —
hint of mint.
A new bill
in change... the slight feel
of "Twenty Dollars".
In line to buy corn —
I can almost taste it.
He knew before
the ball was even snapped —
long bomb.
Click here for Notes
Little beggar...
squirreling away pine cones
in our roof.
A layer of dark moss,
on each cedar shake.
Yellowing larch —
the wind shakes more needles
onto the ground.
A seedling fir,
nearly covered in leaves —
forest clearing.
Alpine meadow flowers...
the added scent of juniper.
A field mouse
darts into the pile of spruce —
mountain hut.
Click here for Notes
Autumn afternoon —
rose petals cling
to the cemetery gate.
Embracing at the door...
an ebony hair on his shirt.
Harvest moon —
red acrylic fingernails
open old love letters.
A ladybug
holds tight to a twig —
cool wind.
Late night fishing —
black-skirted spinnerbait.
Harbour lights —
the squeak of a rusty hinge
hangs in the air.
Click here for Notes
Autumn morning —
an old barn bites down
into the ground.
Abandoned farm truck...
its door also in the box.
River valley —
a rusted bicycle frame
lodged in an elm.
A small piece
of embedded barbed wire —
tree trunk.
A yellowing telegram:
"Coming Home Now".
Their initials
with nineteen-twenty-one —
large, flat rock.
Click here for Notes
|
