beachfront hotel
under construction –
sky in the rooms

 

transparent
over stone, the wings
of a dragonfly

 

swarming ants
when I bend down close –
silence

 

shaped water
out beyond and beyond –
downeast Maine

 

bright pink roses
amid the flaming smoke bush –
a war of color

 

branch low
over the worn trail
how many know you?

drifting aimlessly
in unmown hay –
party balloon

 

on the porch screen
a fly crawls up and over
water, mountains and clouds

 

hot sandy soil
littered with metal and glass
a thistle grows tall

 

the sigh of the dog
brings me to consciousness –
summer afternoon

 

filaments of light
through weathered slats –
empty boathouse

 

on the pond
water striders
connect the dots

all night long
young lambs bleat for their mothers
grazing elsewhere

 

fledgling heron
undisturbed by onlookers
fishes alone

 

lightning
from a distant storm
fills the room

 

threadbare –
the old beach towel
lets the light through

 

only late July
yet spread under the tree
so many apples

 

August light flares white
off the end grain of stacked logs –
neighbor’s woodpile