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Dreams in Color


He holds her

A slice of lime

Bobs in a cocktail glass

Like a life preserver


Bougainvillea Flowers

Fly in simmering winds

Scrape across pavement


Her Indigo heart

The pendulum

Of a Grandfather clock


Eyes closed

Her kisses

Velvet fireworks

Before the alarm



She is black and white

Acrid smolder smoke

Beach and sand flea

Scalp itch


A ship on the rocks

Lolling in waves

Bodies dot the shore


A forced smile

Bilge water bubbles out

Her hands

Frozen lab rats



Shrill in landing

Claim remains



Scrawny, fur juts out

Rough like a drunk

Waking from an all-night bender


Our brains lock

Is he rabid?

Am I dangerous?

Our space between

Connects with speculation


From the Saguaro hole

Fashioned by sharp beak

Cactus wren leaps into flight


A gecko

Rapid start and stops

Makes his way

Along the red clay brick

Retaining wall


Resident bull snake

Curls under the woodpile

Her meal lumped in midsection


Mice relax

In their dirt hovels

After a night of survival


Mourning doves coo

Fidget the nest of twigs,

Quail peck

Hundreds of mesquite pods

Helicoptered to Earth


The mechanical wail

Of a neighbors garage door

Startles coyote

His legs of coiled spring

Lopes up the street

A vagrant without a sign

Century Plant


Thirty years to flower

Bees lust its’ pollen

Value its’ long maturation

Before the tall stalk withers


She asks

What is the purpose

To reach for heaven then die

As if being needs value


A meteors’ torch  

Confirms its’ presence

Then fades into night


In honeycomb days

I admired all flowers

In full nectar flow

My heart a buzzing hive

Until wayward winds

Set them adrift


I’ve grown tired

Of reason and purpose

Seasons of blossom and purge

The bloom of knowledge

Perennial and common


It is not me to wonder why

Logic wilts under desert sun

I am a seed

Dropped from a tall stalk

For quail to peck

Earth to bury from sight

My Bus Stop


I waited under a towering pine

Sentry at the end of our long driveway

Sap slothful ooze, my fingers sticky

Snapping twigs to make mini log cabins

Repaired the village after storms


Two stone pillars, between the driveway

And the humpback road that lead to the lake

The bus nosed in to turn around

Once got wedged on a snowy day


By one pillar, the driveway broke apart

I dug out a buffalo head nickel

From the packed dirt

Ran over a snapping turtle with my Schwinn

Mistaking it for a smooth stone


The musk of pine permeated

Most pungent on cold or rainy days

The stone wall housed Copperheads

I was told not to climb it

But did anyway


In kindergarten

The bus stop was too far from home

I would look back as the bus roared up

Tearful longing gazing past the lilac bush

To the stone steps, to the back door

Where my mother was cleaning

Education was a fearful thing


Then the bus door swung open

Dominic the driver

Small man with thick accent

Would greet with a smile

It was enough to get me onboard

Take the ride

That would change everything

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