a rainbow
horizon to horizon
the curved wings of gulls

tomorrow I leave
cones high
in the old pine

spring morning
a chained dog
settles in the dust

country road
no way home
without a detour

summer rain
the back yard hole filled
with tricycles

creek mouth
bathing the dog
in sunset

the ride
past the roadside fruit stand
— spring solitude

late spring
lambs play
in the slaughteryard

commute —
carpooling with
the same fly

first rain
the smell as dust
changes to mud