country town
a railway station
without tracks

red-throated finch song
a hint of it in Beethoven’s
rhythm and angles

no old habits —
the newborn’s
cry

evening rain —
the screen door
covered with moths

bay shallows
a starfish moves its fingers
over mine

for the second time
the mourning dove      feeding
without her mate

spring dawn
one at a time
the newborn’s eyes open

white handkerchief —
my mother shoos
a cabbage moth

opening the window
after lovemaking
the earth’s fragrance

beached kelp —
we examine each other’s
life lines