i water my moonflowers when midnight falls,/ watching the wilted bulbs bloom into full/ moons. there comes

She was forever captivated/ By the man on the mountain./ Every day, without fail,/ He would lean against a large

Tipping but not falling/ a little tilt and it became creamier—/ a cave holding light. How it melted then/ and

“A cup of strong coffee please,” to overcome the bitterness of life,/ “Mild coffee,” to think about what’s up in

The sun dwells daintily on the border of the sea,/ Streaking the sky with hues of pink for as far the eye can see./ As

In a handbasket,/ in an old gray truck,/ a line of dust the only/ proof it leaves behind,/ out in the beige desert

Lady of water, artwork of stones and spears./ She, survivor of wars and ages,/ now drowning in tears of men.

Do mirrors show what is true/ Or a perceived version of you.// When you look inside/ What do you have to hide.

A jar of beetroot, given in kindness/ by a friend, has wintered/ in a kitchen press for three years./ When I

We drove to Provence/ To capture Cezanne/ To find impressions/ In the landscape/ Through fields of lavender

Each memory is a blueberry clinging onto the bush./ They hang in no specific order, each one containing/ a flavorful

I do not have to be good./ Baseballs crack windows,/ teacups spill, saucers shatter, umbrellas/ splinter in

And again it is night/ spreading its black light/ over the mountains,/ over the pale roads/ that have lost their way

Abandoned cars/ lined both shoulders// Tourists afoot/ kept on crowding// So we traded/ postcard Forest

Words without ink on paper cloud—/ the poem at the edge of the world.// It is the place where land sinks to sea

The world smelled of petrichor/ The day after the rain/ After flood warnings and drowning hearts

Southering sun, briefer days/ northern Siam/ earth and trees fade/ to umber and gold,/ taking flight/ leaves flee

We see things only that we want to keep. Look/ at this sparrow, this spotted owl, this dove/ with the blue-black

High hills I climb/ to give sky a near stargaze/ lying wide awake all the night/ I rove my eyes aloft over distance

Heron fixes its solitary gaze on the low tide./ Osprey slows, pivots and dives./ Kingfisher chitters and white