distant virga
the ranch dog’s eyes
different colors

painting class
the children color each other
into laughter

indigo night
in the cricket's song
no birth no death

slicing red peppers—
the secret
I can’t tell

on the blank page
the stumbling bee inscribes
a message in gold

milky scent
of the calf’s breath—
morning moon

produce stand
so many shapes
of orange

a silver hair
woven into the nest
winter light

cranberry stains—
the kids ask why
my parents divorced

spring tea—
through bone china
her thin hand

asking a nurse
for a lollipop—
the taste of yellow

fog all day
the whiteness
in my ears

spring landscape
a watercolorist's brush
tints the stream

lavender stalk
the weight of one
white butterfly

wallflowers
a darker red
now the sun’s gone

cherry petals
a child adds a handful
to the busker’s cup

amber light
the time it takes
a leaf to fall

sunburst . . .
bits of river
through the mangroves

the bonfire embers
smouldering on to sundown
honking geese

wedding over
yellow tulips remain
on the breakfast table

evening star—
fold upon fold
the quiet blue hills

shiny red apples
the painter introduces
a caterpillar

stillness
after the storm—
furled hibiscus

Indian Summer
blueberries burst
in the batter

pink horizon
as wide as the tulip
can open

opening the drapes—
         the underbelly
          of a frog

sun tea darkens—
bees in the hollyhocks
all afternoon

rainbow
the ripest pomegranate
too high to reach

autumn-blue sky
a damselfly joins
my boat ride

almost winter
the press of grape leaf on grape leaf
how red!