
i look down to earth,
and wonder if anyone
is looking up

i look down to earth,
and wonder if anyone
is looking up

i stop, mid-run,
because this sunrise
will never repeat.

pink trumpet flowers,
in dense clustered spheres,
break up spring’s blue sky

high tide sweeps
around the beach rocks,
and then they’re islands.

open road mural
triggers wanderlust;
i stop to look.

from a speeding train,
i see a fresh-plowed field
in which nothing moves.