Poem #173

the quilter pushed her project
through the sewing machine
she was unaware of the beetle

the small beetle clung
to a pinned together seam in the fabric
the small beetle was unaware of the machine

the machine brought it’s needle down
into the fabric edges and the beetle
the machine was unaware of everything

Poem #172

out in the desert with a night breeze
warm, thick air brushes every inch of skin
faint wind chimes sing without confidence
the starry sky presents no urgency
relaxation at its most poignant

Poem #171

the orange cat sits at the open window
his neck cranes for every angle
he can hardly look outside
the intensity of the freedom is too much
but he remains on the sill
enjoying the cool wind on him
a reminder of freedom, though he can’t look
the closeness to the outside is enough

Poem #170

aromatic tree bark on the concrete
asphalt and rubber snarls beneath
twinkly lights strung on a tree
three men sitting at a table
a woman shakes off a rug
metal monsters stay in their lanes
perfectly timed lights with computer precision
a place for everything, everything in place