kissed by the river
standing in a withered rank
some plain black pilings
the monk by the pond
smears his ink, wipes his paper
trying to draw rain.
the light on the tracks
pushed on by a moving train
soon forgets itself
Night wind in blue light.
A mirror of violins.
Crimson star, white swan.
Ego on, then off.
Here I am, see, now I’m not.
Lightning bug. Firefly.
Monkey finger clouds
suggest a change in weather.
Someone tell the ice!
behind dark windows
up there in their private club.
two lovebirds converse.
he crouches and leaps
blurs as he flies, then lands.
that reckless squirrel.
One sparrow, then ten.
Buildings hum, windows open.
Wise guy thinks it’s spring.
The fog drops gauze balls
on a jet black umbrella
then it wanders on.
if that little flea
thinks he can colonize me
he’s mistaken
an egret flies by
sets down by a small canal
flaps, and goes to work
If you want breakfast
my old squirrel friend, then you
need to seem humble