late November . . .
I miss another visit
to the nursing home

slender moon —
locking the door
for the last time

Pearl Harbor Day
the back yard fence steams
in the morning sun

every one
of her Xmas cookies
the same snowflake

dirt road —
ahead and behind
falling leaves

autumn elms —
under her arm
a folded star

moonlight —
reducing the city
to ruins

Christmas Eve —
on the hairdresser’s face
a hint of tears

bowing
one last time —
frozen grass

sickle moon
an exit ramp bends
through black ice