Archives: Poem Gallery

backyard Oak
I whittle on a copy
for our mantelpiece

a crow’s ruffle
whooshing the quietness
behind me

piebald cat
licking her black spots
in the shade

our heads down
the whoosh of a crow
here and gone

old girl next door
her plastic rake broken
among the leaves

this leaning road
to a distant valley
in the breath of trees and home

counting to myself
under our sun-creams–
the freckles at Laurel’s nose

the pen-pal posted…
those deeper thoughts
I wanted to write

chicken gizzards
thrown to the others
as a dark treat

treading water
a Pike plucks bugs
from the tree shades