still night
each frozen breath
a key

sand dollar
the curve of the shore
behind me

Moebius strip
a cast of hawks fades
into summer

deeper
into the morning fog
into myself 

held
in delicate balance
milk thistle

Mark E. Brager lives with his wife and son in Columbia, MD, just outside of Washington, DC, where he works as a public affairs executive. His poems have appeared in haijinx, Prune Juice, Haiku Pix Review, The Heron's Nest and Notes from the Gean.