sometimes it’s the clouds

and yet we experience

white gives way to green

window deja vu

from the evening robins’ beaks

critical moments

when I am running

plant me beside, beneath one

while reflecting sky

reminders of love

that mountain ahead; summit;

as with all life’s gifts

even the clouds long

found in every little

tied for each refill

and when you suffer

rotational symmetry

are we not of space?

when is it, you ask

sipping dew of torch lilies

with grains of pollen

just folding paper

you tripped me, floating there. but

announce the sunset

this year you have bloomed

it left only a small crack

to then turn around

butterfly vortex

hello — I can see you now

quiet etched in time

I just glimpsed the light

it filled my lungs with quiet

whispering of love

sunflowers bow their

lets us forget what it is

bringing waves of north

this year you have bloomed

below the grasses of thought

everywhere I go

lofty sequoia

so you can hear the whispers

it embraces you

plan those garden beds

into the day’s sublime blooms

resonant with us

my orchid’s face me

just to remind me, nudge me,

the spring surprises

Cassiopeia

tiny feet, before you died

reaching skyward — up

I have a secret.

contemplating reflection

out of what remains

faint little circle

composite life of crutose

is to leave no trace

puddles of sunlight

converse in intimate joy

I want to fly in