the full moon lighting
the shortest night of the year
a soft wind lingers
something unnamed surfaces
lacking words it gnaws deeply
the full moon lighting
the shortest night of the year
a soft wind lingers
something unnamed surfaces
lacking words it gnaws deeply
sun at northern reach
longest day or longest night
depends on one’s sphere
stepping off street curb
unhurried but purposeful
turtle crossing road
northern morning sun
reflects on the south side wall
from neighbor’s window
sometimes our mere existence
sheds light on another’s darkness
casting to the curb
possessions that bind the soul
ours and our forebears’
trash that we fail to dispose
inherited by others