March morning
the crackling puddles
of air

fortune teller...
the lights of a distant train
shimmer on the rails

walking on leaves
the road and the road ditch
all one

greasy spoon
I imagine the waitress
without her acne

pea soup fog
ahead of me a revenant
who whistles

Elbowed by that north wind
I step aside and see it
fling the lark skyward

hunger moon
  the model returns
to her circle of chalk

gun-talk in the store- 
i bought another paint-brush 
to color flowers

nagasaki . . .
in her belly, the sound
of unopened mail

sea fog — 
the place on the sea wall 
where the suicides go

the undiscovered country
a cereal box full
of cupboard moths

twilight shadows 
the outline of a child 
in sidewalk chalk

summer's heat —
the shrapnel of
a human being

the cat’s teeth
dribble oriole blood
spring equinox

night fishing
in a starlit creek...
the depth of the galaxy
around my ankles

a yowling stray
the saucer of milk
iced over

taxi stand
the man in a rabbit suit
fumbles for his watch

raining shadows . . .
the spring moon between
heartbeats

longest night– 
a box of tiny limbs
beneath her bed

distant thunder
a streak of blue
on the blackbird's wing 

beneath continents
of slow moving algae
my alcoholic father

humpback moon 
in a half built scraper 
a light flickers on and on

dad’s suicide 
a candle burns away
its shadow  

summer heat
baby at her bare breast    
in the checkout line

red moon 
their father's hash pipe 
between them

shoreline . . .
the translucent sunset
of a child

wild-eyed child
figuring out
the roadkill

she shows me 
the cuts on her arms –
sickle moon

passing storm
the moon caught
in a spider's web

steady drip
a bucket's tone rising
with the sap

so much sparrow song
in the shape of a bush
falling snow