squash blossoms
I teach my son
to count

the old couple
weed their tiny garden —
sunlight on stone

first ride
      without the training wheels —
                  summer breeze

fresh tar
black-eyed susans
lost in the scent

menfolk —
a pup in the middle
of idle pats and scratches

thinning the carrots . . .
still thinking about the child
miscarried

  the strike of a nail
travels down the fence
     dog days

rest stop —
sparrows pick the insects
from a semi’s grill

hot afternoon
the hum
of her sewing machine

the late glare
of a summer sidewalk —
winos pool their change