Within a brisk moment
her eyes fluttered...
Harvest time (Haiku)
crisp fruit falls from trees...
A deer eats green grass
as winds sway pastures in warning...
Climbed sacred mountains
swam in pools of the goddesses...
Corpulent mists drift
across the parking lot...
Mt.
Kenya...
Scattered sheep on fields,
trailed by tiny fleecy coats...
Black skies are
my solitude...
Night fades
revealing a frosty dawn...
If I were birds like those above our heads,
The ones that fly by fluttering their wings...
Asphalt;
melting by the swealtering heat...
I'm the sweet orb of August,
firm and plump and glowing orange and red...