The fog lifts, revealing solitary stalks coated in dew, new white ruffles draped over sleek green stems grazing the grass like a wedding gown,
The August lilies flower, the butterfly bushes, the rain-bowed tree hydrangea. The garden’s my challenge this morning. To see life steadily and see it
Inspiration comes when we don’t want it. Navigating the system’s complicated interchanges, an egg-crème moon balances on a distant viaduct, a right jolly apparition
A passing truck declares and pleads in script on dirt-splashed steel PLEASE WASH ME PLEASE. The plane on the sparse green is standing still,