Under woolly grey skies
sparkling diamonds fall swiftly
on to a green felt earth


Languid spirals drift up
blessed sage cleansing us all
bittersweet comforts

Sunday biking

Pedal fast and hard
up the hill 'round the corner --
wind through my pigtails


Staying up past dawn
Immortal notions of youth
Smiles on a smooth face


last breath in my arms --
nestled in a hand-hewn box,
but snug in my heart

Fork in the Road

Stand and stare, stock-still
March by mysterious means
Turn on trodden tracks


Tempestuous blast
By the heathland, red dust whirls
Grit between my teeth


Round and round, she curls
dreaming of warm embraces
kitty coterie