ant5

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a pair of jeans

stuffed halfway

in the mailbox

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tomato can

full of ants

in for a ride

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when your sorrow

dries up

winter beetle

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the war

on the screen

beetle walks by

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my browser

tells me I don’t

need to punctuate

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another fog

still afraid

to fall asleep

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poised with

the egg I feel

the hen’s warmth

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Xmas carols

the aroma of

burnt cast iron

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just before

you called the dog

started barking

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lost in

the brilliant fog

the waxing moon

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