eyes from the churchyard
watching me
the oldest tombstone

thunder
…a child’s whimper
into the night

man’s best friend
waiting
for his master’s love

sunny afternoon
chasing butterflies
he laughs

blue MG
top down
scent of her hair

stranded for now
two children sit restlessly
on steps of the school

laughter and giggling
girls stay over
in a tent outside

drinking my coffee
at the kitchen table
thinking

Independence day
willow tree
lingers in the sky

tractor’s engine
empty garden
under the harvest moon

kitchen table
dandelions
wilting in a glass

built with love
children’s dream house
of cool wet leaves

the creaking floor screams
as she floats
prayers of transparency

beach
chilly breeze
no more tourists

buttered corn
in its shuck
popping loudly