Mulch Ado ...

What with all
the sowing, mowing,
watering, weeding,
feeding, spraying
and trimming,
it's been a challenge
that's a yard wide
and a summer long.

© 1996
(originally published in Mature Years)

Summer Rain ...

It was an impulse,

a sudden shower,
plump, ripe drops
deeply dimpling
the dancing dust
before skipping off,
sending shudders
up thirsting rows
of corn, a sound
like a child running
a dry stick along
an old picket fence.

© 1996


(originally published in Anterior Poetry Monthly)

Solitary Candle ...

My candle sculpts

itself in its corner
of the room, flame
gyrating in the draft,
tiny avalanches
of wax slithering
into the maw,
a fungible, seething
mass that labors
back up the wick
to sacrifice itself
as a bit of light,
distant warmth. It
flickers, warning me
that I shall soon miss
the warmth, its quiet
companionship, gently
flowing memories, its
solitary, sustaining
work of holding
the darkness at bay.
© 1996
(originally published in Anterior Poetry Monthly)