Shiva’s Temple —
a toddler chants along
in baby talk

vast empty space
inside the cathedral
fills with organ music

copper wire
around the bonsai
autumn sun

circus act
the elephants
not in the room

Balinese story dancers
long-trained fingers
swirl in the bonfire light

with a stamp and a snap 
she strikes a defiant pose
     the flamenco dancer

harvest moon
the square dance caller
sips from a flask

summer wind
my daughter chasing
a Charizard

end of the world
nobody stays
for the credits

netsuke...
the hare with amber eyes
jumps back in again

a single cloud—
she spends the evening
cutting quilt pieces

War and Peace
a hundred pages in
he surrenders

moon viewing
the silence
as my pen stops

1812 Overture
another “conductor”
one row ahead

winter storm
I change my mind
about opera

buttermilk clouds —
my mother’s voice singing
an old cowboy song

40 years in
the postman still carries
a tune

tulip bulbs —
that first piano recital
still in my fingers

after the parade
the snapping latches
of trumpet cases

jukebox
the barmaid
gives me a tip

distant stars and my music among them

city bus
a diversity 
of ring tones

writing a check
       for the lithograph
             of Escher’s hands

the soup can
before Andy Warhol
and after

lost glasses  crawling through the landscapes of Dali

mixing red and yellow paint
my son discovers
fire

the wait in line
to wait in line:
Matisse exhibit

working with the time
he’s got left
sand sculptor

the sculptress
never touching
her own hands

Christmas play
the Wise Man forgets
his next line

actor
in a family
of critics