ant5

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last of the gold

sunlight on

the edges of the elms

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here it’s just

the crow and

the stray dog

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a rain puddle

on a flattened

paper bag

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the noise

the dove makes

when it lands

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that sound

the glade

touching itself

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through the fog

light on the abandoned

condominiums

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it suddenly

seems like a lot

of volcanoes

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evening made

of chalk

a double entendre

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he broke

all the windows

took the potatoes

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in the window

a hen watches

the moon

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