jasmine tendrils —
waiting
for my daughter’s call

dawn . . .
the rooster for sacrifice
calls in the temple

Dry creek bed
the seven stepping stones
to the other side

licking raspberry stains
from my palm —
the heat

clear day . . .
a painted turtle
takes the plunge

a raven’s cry . . .
the fading lines
of the petroglyph

left on the shrine
the stone that tumbled
from the cliff

stepping stones
               she moves
                     a little closer

blue summer morning . . .
the egret returns
to the guppies’ pond

summer sky
a damselfly stirs
the blue air