charcoal

she draws with charcoal
smudged fists blending too sharp lines
until bearable

man's best friend

Hands in jeans pockets
feet nudging moss
without thinking
man removes cap
by his springer's old grave

chatter

tide flows out over
loose pebbles chattering
with seagulls

Red barn

red barn under red

sky melting smooth orange

summer afternoon

Hope

Speak truth slowly, breathe
life into hope into yes
even me, to live
not yet die, will moves forward
into another summer

Tradition

Across the street, boys
smoke pot. Hugs her violin
case, waiting. School bus
is late. Again. Taps her toe.
Strange tradition, this waiting.

Stillness

stillness incarnate

watching, waiting,

red patience

notice me, please