The Artist's Garden

Still life.
A half smile spreads
across her pale pink lips.
He repaints the change of light on
her breast.

All That Remains

You left.
Yet, my heart beats . . .
I wake in your shirt, then
scan the obituaries for
your name.

Visit With a Friend

Today,
I called your name.
Of course, it wasn't you . . .
I place my hands upon the cold
gray stone.

                      The following three poems were published in Ku Nouveau, Summer 2001.

Seaside:
the moon ripples,
then rushes toward shore,
slowly receding to itself
again.

Twilight:
yellow petals
gently fall from the rose,
then touching ground, a wind sweeps them
away . . .

Beachside:
coconut oil
caresses my senses,
green water softly fades into
the blue . . .

                    The following two poems were published in Haiku Harvest, Fall & Winter 2001.

Sunrise—
vines intertwine
the old broken trellis . . .
out of the tangle, a perfect
red rose.

Old dock:
Crashing waves rock
the abandoned rowboat.
My upturned face drinks in the moon
and stars.