Rain

slowly clearing skies-
the stillness of rain water
in a fallen leaf

soft wet earth-
a new stream born
of autumn rain

Shipwreck

draped in tulle and lace
far below the frozen sea-
immemorial

nestled in
the ocean deep-
lost to time

Winter

opalescent clouds-
shadows on the moonlit snow
cast by trees long dead

dying embers-
in the dark I become
the falling snow

Laundry

linens on the line-
warm peals of children’s laughter
waft in on the breeze

wicker baskets-
a coffee can of
broken clothespins

Sky

lost amid the clouds-
the afternoon sky whispers
my name to the wind

wistfully blue-
dandelions
in your hair

Until

unearthed by the wind-
stone sentinels laid low by
the passage of time

dew kissed moss-
a small stone shrine
unvisited

Eerie

ghost of old rumors-
morbid curiosity
about the house on the hill

a one eyed crow-
tortured shrieks of
wrought iron hinges

History

a thin scrim of frost-
muddy waters churn beneath
this fragile veneer

storm clouds-
reopening
old wounds

Ghosts

milkweed in the wind-
beside the ancient live oak
I bury our bones

a lonesome gong-
pale wisps of trees
fade in the mist

Stonehenge

the dawning solstice-
children of the earth and sky
taste the rising sun

pheasant’s eyes-
ghosts of stone men
herald the sun