I feel the billow
of him passing on the path—
a moonlit jogger
A lava sunrise
spreading over hazy hills—
open book unread
A huge white rock moon
above squalling clouds of gulls
like swirling ashes
*
Under grey dome skies—
the hiss of unseen traffic,
faint twitter of birds
Speeding morning train—
flashing between the buildings
the sun stings my eyes
Just over my head
gulls circle and screech and leave
a scent of the sea
*
Yellow canoe moon
bright in a blue satin dusk—
a smile over us
Logs on a hillside—
at first glance homeless people
sprawled in the moonlight
Feeling the thick pulse
of a jet in the twilight—
bright as a planet
*
Bare tree like a cloud,
grey against tall evergreens—
such a dry winter
.
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