Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Soft breezes have disarranged
the long green ribbons
of grass.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Colorful autumn leaves
are like shards of a shattered
stained glass window that
land at my feet.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

No person hears a tree scream,
but as a sentinel post apocalypse,
the evidence of pain is in the tortured
posture that remains.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Three centuries ago most sailors spent their
lives in a wooden world upon the sea,
yet seldom came to appreciate
the lovely landlocked trees.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

The way through depression is down a
foggy street where all appears drab
and colorless, and detail
cannot be distinguished.

Monday, August 15, 2011

There is a false sense of security in knowing
window glass holds back the
darker blue of night.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Why not see the frayed rope as a gnarled and fibrous wave
that has crashed on a beachhead

of hemp!

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

A synchronized flock of Plovers circled
over the mudflats, anticipating
the mysterious signal

to land.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

I get only enough sleep to
keep me just this side
of insanity.

Monday, August 8, 2011

The sun rose from the sea in silence; but,
the gulls began their day
at the beach by squabbling
over breakfast.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

A cagey negotiator of sharp spines,
the Cactus Wren longs to find
his prey already impaled
and ready to be eaten.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Hungry imagination transformed
dry blossoms into crunchy
caramel corn.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Monday, August 1, 2011

Dockside, the bare poles of the sailboats
imitate the naked trees

of winter.