a wing beat– the hummingbird catches my eye
hammock lightens Sunday’s heat I sway in
cutting herbs I find I am back to Mother’s meals
in the earth who can tell the future of a seed
frost freezes the moons the puddles hold
sunset the last prayers the Minaret calls
wind all day– the web repairs the spider is caught in
the ankles your sari brushes on stairs
un-gloved— for all to see the pledge of her diamond
perfumed all at once— the office lift
