Moving Galleries

Bollywood ringtones
Brighten my film noire mornings
On suburban trains

The lights in the street
are gold or white or blue.

The primitive grass says nothing
of what’s to come. ...

She’s a delicate rose
Found in flowery prose
And I’m not her. ...

you told me
you loved it when the trees changed their minds
and covered the ground
with a million veined post-it notes ...

grey dawn
thin old moon
alone and radiant

sun after rain
a fox dares me to cross
her path