Old woman searching
for words – lifts her hand
and pats the air
Old servant leans in –
knows quite well
where her bones ache
Singing on the porch –
the sidewalk begins
to darken with rain
Open moon
in my window – as a memory
memory grows
Luna abierta
en mi ventana - como memoria
que crece memoria
Sleepless night –
he has not quite figured out
where his arms go
Half-moon, why here?
Five planets arrayed in your slim
necklace of loneliness
Good thing about death,
Zita says – at least you don’t
have to pack
Tarot reader
places her folding table just beyond
the museum of time
Early rising moon -
come to bicker
with the wheatfield
He stands on a stage
and talks of planting seedlings
while the forests burn
Solstice sky
She balances the wine glass
between her toes
I wake up weeping –
all night along the prairie
they were handing out dreams
How to fly out
from a broiling cauldron?
Europa, these are my tears