from reed to reed
a blackbird follows
               its song

leaving my loneliness     inside her

slowly, together
on the unmade bed
willow shadows

in the raw
she eats an apple
first

Both with our feet
In this freezing river
Our eyes touch

endless scales
on the neighbour’s flute
my mother’s ironing

in every puddle
the after-storm-sky reflecting…
all the quiet

November nightfall
the shadow of the headstone
longer than the grave

         in moon light
a brown pine needle
	spinning above the ferns

picking berries
I happen on a bear print
in the Slocan mountains

my heart awaiting you
silence still
and the vast falling of leaves . . .

the fog has settled
around us. A faint redness
where the maple was

dawn
suddenly nude
the lake shivers

we part the moon follows us both

wild pears —
yellow jackets push
under the skin 

a length of rope
knotted with seaweed —
pull of the tide

the heron
striking its own reflection
shallow water 

in the fog
a dog noses maple leaves
winter election

moss-hung trees
a deer moves into
the hunter’s silence

dawn stars
still twinkling . . .
the whiteness of daisies 

northern lights
just beyond the reach
of my walking stick 

late for work —
cherry petals
in her hair 

sparrows shelter
under the 7 – 11 sign
October wind 

music
through the hollow reed —
oil of myrrh

prairie wind
snow fills the mouth
of the badger hole 

after rain
two magpies take turns
preening themselves

they seem to drift
out of waning moonlight
snow clouds 

each lilac showing me
what I do not know
about lilacs 

breakfast
in bed
your raisin cinnamon kiss 

using the mirror
my mother gave me
the other side magnified

midnight
another ping
from the empty pop can 

a hazy face
in the sleet mirror
granite tombstone

widow for a year
now his hat missing
from the hook

at the antique store
deep in the empty dresser
the sun’s rays

your beard
soft against my neck
sun through the blinds 

icy sidewalk
step by step
in another’s footsteps