a hurricane nears
the lost swan swims in circles
looking for his mate
Death Notice picture
yet another empty house
for my neighborhood
through the mist could be
anything: voices, lost souls,
Other ways to see
Mountain storm passes
His heart flies north seeking it
His only sorrow
A drop of sunshine
falls from the weeping sun down
to the dying earth
Red leaves blow across
Iron bars and plastic swings
Falling into cries
Leaves lose their lushness
Loosening their lustrous hold
Prey to fall's fierce winds
son of a black hole
daughter of a dying star
two humble burnouts
Socialising birds
Help in searching for lost seed
Eating all the finds
the end of summer -
dried roses from our first date
have lost all their scent
You didn't answer
Cause you were sleeping around
Goodbye you sheeba
this morning thick clouds
shrouded the pure crystal sky
mourning morning sun
some Spanish apples
on a Tunisian stall
lost in translation
Smoke escapes his lips
Dead air floats on his soft breath
But hear his eyes smile
She embraces death
With a kiss she tries to leave
Her family dead
death shroud of white mist
borne on whisper-soft cat paws ?
river valley morn
night grieves loss of light
stars tentatively console
? unmoved, nighthawks dance
Young Weeping Willow
Cascades just over the Earth
Shimmers, Mystical
A pain deep inside
The pregnancy has ended
Grieve my unborn child
at Mom's funeral ?
I hate the people who say
she looks so good, now
Standing skeletons
Life hidden among the stands
Dense canopies lost
rain on rusted tin
tapping a message to me
a day lost in thought
Cherry tree blossoms
As death comes around again
She waves gracefully
seizures day to day,
the fear and sorrow endless,
the heart pleads for rest,
sword and shield in hand
a pillow under your head
death is not picky
it is simply wind
mixed with water it becomes
typhon bringing tears
first light of morning
finds my father's smiling face
death took him gently
Incidentally
morning in bed missing you
arms empty of love
an early spring rain
drops gold onto sleeping dogs
women wake and cry
These birdsongs- are they
mechanized or is this real?
The dead trees still loom...
old plaza darkness
phantasms of long dead feasts
the fog of streetlamps
In fading spring light
long lost friends find each other
adventure unfolds
an endless circle
of birth and death and footsteps
straying inbetween.
Readied nursery
Sobbing mother rocks herself
Mourning empty crib
daffodil delights
anticipate what new loss
the back door open
petals fall from stalks,
gypsies lose their virgin souls
in cold, snow bathed streets