Poem Category: Spring

Fog lifts
finding on the bus stop seat
fresh graffiti.

All afternoon
the wind following
the scarecrow’s shadow.

island cruise
the anchor sinks
into swaying kelp.

The tide ebbs,
to feel it leaving
neck high in horse-shoe bay.

Foster home
the nine wood steps
still creaking.

First light
smelling a pursuit
the stallion turns to fear.

Merging circles
a trout leaps moonshine
around the lake.

From the patio
the wind-chime’s joy
spreads through the house.

Garden shed
surprised… a spider
behind the old biscuit tin.

Faster into it
the lower it sinks
the horizon moon.