a great orange globe
surmounts the hills, threatening
to swallow the night
Monthly Archive for February, 2010
wandering past the
t-shirts — huh, they still carry
guns at K-mart?…
rows of spinach,
carrots and beets go back into boxes –
smells like fresh rain
“you taste a little
like technology,” she says
with a quizzical look
awake before sunrise
to birds chirping and a brisk breeze;
hints of spring
thinking of a
birthday haiku, love needs more
than three lines
three ravens in
the pine tree; catching up
on the latest news
minute muscle
contractions adjust each feather;
jealousy and awe
acrid hint of
charring carbon wakes me,
no sirens… back to sleep
paper plates, plastic
forks, orange chicken; chatting under
neon panda gaze
