wet
still
bright
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.