Glenna Little Trail

Dusk in the Woods

Burning Bush

Moses had clear eyes,
grew up among princes
counting bales of grain
and keeping books.

Loved simple
miracles constructed of
ordinary things. Making
magic out of parting waters,

snake-bearing rods,
reverberating speeches,
bushes flare
in front of sunsets.

Driving Past Northport

Winter Treetops

Feathery Skeletons

Big Yellow Leaf: Graceful Sleep Series #2

Only humble organelle,
just stiffened
but graceful as a statue

streamlines that
would carry life seepage
closed, unrepairable

abandoned body
still paper yellow
like a memory.

Frozen Daffodils

Base of a Tree

Bloom of Water Plants

Pool at Sunset

Private Road

Textures of Autumn

The Stainglass Tree

In the Lettuce

House with Picket Fence at Dusk: Painting and Photo

My Cup Runneth



My electrons
scud happily
about my brain
I love the fluid
leaps like air
sliding over mountain.

When I open my eyes
color like tin pan
music from the sun
and fluid flows,
the slipping and
oozing of syrups and
waters.

In my closed eyes
mandalas of sunlight
are the precursors of dreams.

Late Afternoon Sun

The Little Bridge

The Branch

Squirrel

House Where I Live

Wild Flowers

Down the Hill at Coindre Hall

American Man Takes Japanese Bride

Old Machine: Photo and Drawing

I'm going back
to my wedding house
to watch it
scatter. I fused
so many particles
now breaking away.

An anti-sentimental
declaration
I will make, amid
the sentiments of those
who see all things rebirthing.
Never again will the pieces
find each other.

Fourteen days
in rubble,
one door closed,
pretending to be
in the past.

Family Fishing

The Woods

Leaving the Beach