Poem Category: Miscellaneous

Vase of flowers
creeping to the sun
on the table cloth.

The scent of rain
our late night hunger
at the motel door.

First circus
scowling her face
the balloon’s sudden pop.

Picnic coming from the trees
smoothing her jeans
she offers me a flower.

Opening night
over the city
lightning fingers.

His first school day
I must wait, pruning the bonsai
in the patio’s sun.

Sunday morning
a tiger moth in danger
of my mower blades.

Suddenly awake
blinking at the lightning
city lights.

Circus lights
seeping from her balloon
‘Its tiny orange breaths’.

Palm reader
a strange disturbance
hand to hand.