Poetry

“once we sifted sand for seashell treasure over rushing water and storm-frothed waves….”

“In an ultrasound tech’s office, I fold my arms like micro-origami. Maybe I can hide under this crepe paper sheet…”

“dandelion clock—the fragile dismantling one puff at a time”

“maple leaves curled into veined orange goblets holding dew cocktails”

We gaze, zone out, read.
Boxed dinners, cards, Ipod beats
Our lives intersect.

“this book, some bug spray, comfortable bench in the shade, worlds overlapping, new light reflecting…”

“The pillagers with their noisy knives, their silent radiation. You look like a moon crater with a shallow lake…”

“Like white linen butterflies, envelopes flew and fluttered with each passing car. Refugees on the asphalt…”