Los Ocasos

 

I am not bereft 

when I have the sunsets 

I share with my mother.

Mi Amor de Palabras

 

O to luxuriate 

in a well-rounded O

slowly cradled 

until it expires.

Making Tea

The promise of precision 

slips away 

when stray thoughts

enfold themselves 

into the pouring 

of the emerald green liquid.

Winter

 

A dark filigree

of bare branches 

radiates into 

the smoky sky.

Below, a palimpsest 

of snowfalls.

Untitled

 

Sitting next to a cat 

with the sun in my eyes 

amidst flitting rainbows

O fleet afternoon.