garden path —
the same weeds
in their country

rain on the horizon
the inside of the nest
worn smooth

low tide
rain wets
the driftwood

peonies —
how earnestly we discuss
last night’s soap opera

cold tea
in the tea cup
no more to say

wisp of a cloud
in a vast blue sky —
my thoughts exactly

to the beat of rain
the builder darkens
with his wood

jellyfish dance
breathing in
with a perfect stranger

their love
now out in the open
night blooming jasmine

summer breeze
taking down the wind chimes
you left