summer drizzle — 
dark shadow of an umbrella
takes its time

pink honeysuckle — 
trying to find the place
the creek used to run

longer days
a nameless bug
on my bicycle

clear summer sky
the breeze blowing rubbish
around children’s feet

leaving the fair
high on my father’s shoulders — 
distant sunset

50th year
scent of honeysuckle
after the rain

dry grass
a donkey colt
learning to wallow

hot day
the bicycle chain
keeps slipping off

street fair — 
a mockingbird mimics
the ventriloquist

sunflower fields . . .
girls in the jeep sing,
“My Favourite Things”