Poem Category: Miscellaneous

to the rooms of monks
the early bell peels
cold in a grey fog

a tarot reading
her bangles and chains
jingle… jangle

electric drill
his jagged holes
behind the picture frame

tarot night
the black cat licks
her white spot

spring thaw
out to the merry sun
the lace curtains

I know only
after the rain
enough seeds will be parents

on the earth
after rain
enough seeds copy the parents

I know only
no matter how cute
most turtle young will be food

twilight
in the same time
the sick friend has not phoned

butterfly and mate
stirring the dust
in a sunbeam