rust

vibrate

soft

broken

stories

Ripped and torn apart, fragments, marks, placed and glued on paper, a fast

letting go of questions.

dapper

It could be any day, or year, or time on this path,

a man in a suit is walking his dog.

periwinkle

I peeked through the fence and saw my favorite color

from the Crayola crayon box of my youth.

duet

“Shall we sing then dance at dawn?”

“Yes,” the fog moves me also.”

melody

A painted community of flowers, rainbow cosmic sky and musical notes—

a garage’s invitation to sing

on a night stroll in my daughter’s neighborhood.

sapphire

This is my favorite blue to look through, this sky in Taos.

Somehow it satisfies the mystery of hope.