
thin canopy woods.
light hits the grassy ground
and it glows green

thin canopy woods.
light hits the grassy ground
and it glows green



the sun rises
over the river,
worlds collide

before opening,
a crow takes a table,
and demands service

a rotten log grows
a vibrant mushroom cluster —
soon to rot, itself


when Fall leaves are green
and pale yellow, i get
citrus autumn mind



the ship is gone.
its journey recorded
in liquid ripples

autumn afternoon
sun catches one hillside;
the other is shy