end of the day

washing the dishes
in slanting afternoon light --
soap bubbles glisten

...

late afternoon sun

on a stand of trees
each leaf casts its own shadow

signs

locked wrought-iron gates
of the church on the corner:
"everyone welcome"

...

rain-stained sign
on a freshly-painted fence:
"wet paint"

green

under the shade tree
all the white tulips
lean gently towards the sun

...

looking into the spring forest:
ten thousand
shades of green

returning

short sleeves,
no wind --
tulips wrapped in crinkling cellophane

...

perfect breeze,
almost imperceptible:
soft return of spring

under the trees

spring idyll --
empty, weather-worn benches
under new-leafed red maples

...

full bloom of spring,
patina of pollen:
every car tinted with green

vivid

I give a friend
my sister's old green bike,
in a box marked "recycled"



...

from a cobalt fountain,
even sheet of water falls --
koi thrash about

arbor

Japanese maple,
just flourishing;
supple red leaf brushes my hair



...

distracted by nature
as I stroll along;
tree branch embraces me

new

each spring
the leaves emerge --
surprise!

...

red tulip petals
strewn on the sidewalk
where a vendor used to be

Sunday

through the rippled panes,
sprigs of bright spring green --
shadows cross the window sill

...

at choir rehearsal
four parts come together --
seamless harmony

peaking

under the cherry trees

springtime
falls



...

reign of
petals
comes to an end

first quarter

sidewalk bazaar,
half-moon table marked with a sign:
"fifty percent off"

...

light flows through the glass,
swallowing the darkness;
first quarter of the moon

out on the point

gazebo and sea grass
next to the walkway on the beach;
wavelets splash



...

wind whining through
the crack in the sliding glass door --
seagull caws wake me

to the shore

gray rocks,
black rocks --
ocean spray

...

dozens of hawks gliding --
fresh green sprouts appear
through last year's dry mown hay

in the neighborhood (on break for a few days)

antique store window:

blue and white Delft tea set

next to the faux bijoux

...

white prosthetic legs
standing on a table
outside the gray house

passing

cherry blossoms
weighed down by the rain
lean toward the Tidal Basin

...

pink confetti petal
full of rain water
drops

time

shriveled jonquils,
already past their prime --
I notice my watch has stopped



...

bright green
of the forest is this green
only now

poetry extra: day off

April kaleidoscope
green pink rose purple blue
its beauty made whole, piercing
by its too-short lifespan

transitory

knife-edged sliver of time
wedged between freeze and sizzling heat
an atmosphere that cradles you
without your even knowing

evanescent

rare sky, cloudless
petal-strewn white-blue
bridging dark of winter's cast
and summer's pall of haze

brief

you wish it would last forever
but know it won't, it can't
season connecting two others
each with its own attractions

if only you're in the moment

glints

warm enough again
to sit outside and write --
where's my pen gone to?

...

sterling silver ring
inscribed with eagle feathers;
sun glints in my eyes

trees

I tear up at the
delicacy of white pear blossoms:
pollen drifts

...

closed, pink --
open, white;
petals dance in the wind

creatures of the night

streetwalker
outside my office building;
I say, "I work here, too."

...

drunk
after a night of revelry --
moonshine

sap

pastels on every corner
and on the blocks between;
one dead tree



...

that full head of copper hair,

the alabaster skin --
spring sap running

warmth

variegated tulips,
yellow, red, white, purple:
palette of spring



...

warm enough again
to sit outside and write --
where's my pen gone to?

all over the map

flooding rain leaves
a sea, ankle-deep --
fire sirens sound

...

early April
cherry blossom season --
snow flakes dot my eyelashes

cleaning up

paper cup
from the night before --
north-by-northwest breeze

...

before the funeral,
workers scour the streets;
solemn dignitaries