I suppose we are
predisposed to see faces
even with asymmetrical eyes
and a long thin nose
wispy forelocks
and a goatee

parked in an alley, far from the shore
well aware I am out of my element
REO here has wheels to roll on
and only wants a tractor
but traction does me no good
it only exacerbates friction
I need the smooth liquid
for which I am made
upon which I can float
in which context I can glide
until I am buoyed aloft again
I will continue dreaming of home

like a window to the era of their origin
a snapshot left on a dashboard over time
glancing through a junk yard fence
I find magic and a time machine

growing out of the glow
not hiding, though in the corner
not invited, but attending all the same
reaching out to touch the sun

facing the alley
as the paint job might suggest
and yet still cheerful

still life with water
still water with fallen leaves
still life continues

multi-colored divisions
with nothing left to divide
I keep wondering what was
in this space and has now gone
what did these partitions separate?
was the floor really always that bare?
these remnants evoke mystery even as
they invite curiosity and speculation
I peer in at the windows, imagine
this liminal space to be static
even as it is ever changing
on its way to becoming
something brand new

holding space for what’s to come
beauty as promise of renewal
broken windows and all
look at what comes
from devotion
to filling a canvas
and sharing a vision
change is made manifest

an ancient beech on the bank of an ancient creek
every winter the same routine, every spring as well
over time a home for moss – how many hundreds
of squirrels have been fed – or thousands, even
and how many descendants have sprouted
forgotten by those self same squirrels…
roots that hold the soil fast each time
the water rises and the creek floods
a canopy of leaves each summer
shading the soil and cooling the air
thriving all the while and supporting
so many others – never earning a living
rather, belonging, and always giving gifts

without taking time to stop
I opened the shutter as I walked by
curious to see what effect my own motion
would have on the scene the sensor picked up
a funny angle I wouldn’t have chosen
emerged as the outcome
and brings more life into this scene
than other, more intentional, static images
I have recorded with close attention to details
sometimes letting go is a way of receiving