Thin Wings



     I can only hear it	
reading long after midnight 
     a fine white rain

forgotten poppy petals
pressed between the pages 


        *


     Only birds call at
pyracanthus gate	
      and they're always drunk 

light rain late afternoon	
just makes everyone drowsy

		
        *



     Crumpled up among
the loose ends of a late morning
     my paper self

mist socked landscape bird frolic
sheer sheets of silver tipped rain
 
        *

     Window open 
autumn moon candle flickers out 
     silk gown off		

happy thought curtain drawn
heaving body's orchid fragrance


        *

	
     TV on too loud again		
recluse’s soap operas echo
     throughout the neighborhood

I am a portrait in a window
the garden looks on into


        *


     Orange dust of evening 
just before the sun drops
          below the skyline

through the particle haze dance 
joy and marvel of the mind


        *


     Startled quail bound
over a bank of brambles
     at my approach

walnut’s last leaf drops
to the frozen ground
 

        *

     The infrequent hypnosis
that throws open the curtains
     on a bright goodness

just yesterday
seems so long ago


        *


     Heaven on earth
moments like that
     come and go

squares of sunlight
on the disheveled bed


        *


     Friends urge me to view
the Masters show in Frisco
      I stare out the window	
	
too long in exile
bamboo in winter mist

		
        *

	
     I have become attached
to the heating pad at my back
     fingers stiff cold	

water pours off the roof
a young flowering plum

 

        *
	
     Anxious drunk too soon
completely forgot
     who was to come visit

spider down from the shadows
but there isn’t much wine left


        *

	
     I’d been in the dark
a ray of sun illuminates the spot
     where I left my empty cup

elbow nudged by a shadow 
another one of my small spills


        *


     Heavy hearted	
threw my back out at 
     the thought of why

cold coffee from a chipped cup
morning fog just now lifting


        *


     On the phone 
outside a butterfly settles 
     on a leaf

her voice light
shimmering on thin wings