on Earth Day, we watch three fly,/
northbound, slow, no sound.
OR
Pelican sunset,/
we saw three flying northbound,
slow, without a sound.

It’s mornings like these,/
and afternoons like that, when/
I miss our deep chats.
This piece is based on my daughter’s photo and comments at the Seattle Art Museum photo exhibit: http://portraits.site.seattleartmuseum.org/portfolio/camilla/
The people who once/
knew you do not find you the/
way you find yourself.
You write a woman/
a sonnet, with all your thoughts/
upon it, and “poof”.
We could throw rocks in the lake,/
or watch brats bake/
on the fire/
as our desire/
climbs, like the flames, ever higher.
Living on the lake, /
there’s lots I could do, but just/
one thing I should do.