bathed in red church bells ring

autumn leaves falling into has been

in the river drifting through an ellipsis

the scent
of honeysuckle
last night’s dream

a twinkling
of stars
the muse returns

moonlight falls
upon a quiet city
sometimes
a bit of magic
is so ordinary

another month
of social distancing
i share
my aches and dreams
with the curbside rose

a shroud
drapes the orange tree
winter rain

splash of a golf ball
a duck’s eye
blinks

the sign says
narrow road ahead
talk radio

hometown church
even the belfry
is empty

an empty bottle --
little boys
smelling of Dad’s cologne

late night city
headlights follow twists
in DNA

stone Buddha
where the garden used to be
drifting leaves