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layers peeled
sensibilities outgrown
only to be whitewashed by the sun.

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A cocktail
of serene orange
the silhouette drops its shadow.

In memoriam

looking at my dog for the last time,
i promised: "i want to grow old with you."

musing, he muttered: "i cannot teach you that trick."

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Silence
envelops the scene
the hills bow
and a muffled air awaits
the battlecry to pierce the steel.

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Her hat smells of flowers
her hair the morning dew

a sweatband in her forehead
a trickle of joy in the eyebrow.

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To catch a thief
tell the eyes not to shy
on a clawing squirrel
hiding a nut in the dirt.

Beneath the red berries
bending the bamboo twigs
the unabashed critter
tamed my suspicions.

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as tarp tugs at the taut canvas

my grip frees the kite's string.

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Shadows have shortened
for the abandoned birdhouse

as my aerodynamic touch
feathered for your neckline.

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Unbeknownst
the base of memories

stacks
forgets
builds
and burries

rubbles
so deep
so high
for a sigh to escape.

Deadwood

Her electric sap
singing, yes singing
before kissing the sand.