cicada shell —
the boy demands to
change his name

nude beach
a man and a woman
collecting feathers

turning heads
the blackbird’s
one white feather

autumn sunset —
grandma’s fingers stained
with beet juice

a shooting star —
the short grass
tickles my neck

on every step
dead cicadas —
a day’s list of things to do

park path
just my thoughts leave
the straight and narrow

cut grass
i sweep away
summer’s end

full moon . . .
everything in its place
in the kitchen

honky-tonk bar
a tomcat steps out
into the night