high noon . . .
a laborer picking
her shadow

husking corn . . .
now follows her
through the stars



moth wings . . .
is there a shortcut
to the moon?

autumn cool . . .
what are the stars to
a gray whale?

gray skies . . .
an egret painting
shadows



and summer . . .
the fisherman's net
dredging dreams



my poems?
somewhere in the old
tree's hollow



summer breeze . . .
everyday, the canyon
stretches



autumn breeze . . .
a laundry woman
tossing clouds



high noon . . .
the breeze above
me, captioned