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