a sand ripple
just fits my arch —
sunrise

hiking trail
a path of sky through
the bug-eaten leaf

trail’s end —
the taste of wild onion
still sharp on my tongue

the golden smoothness
in a stem of wheat
I take home the field

quiet hillside
children climb one another
into the trees

prairie stream —
what I know about mountains
in these small stones

under us —
water that roared
in the waterfall

cicada song
the sleeping bag’s
long zipper

evening light
a loaf of bread
on the cutting board

trellis of roses —
her being-photographed face
opens