Hide and Seek

A chameleon
rests, belly warming slowly
on bright white lights. Green
skin refuses camouflage.
He blinks--cannot see, cannot be seen.

Sixth Wednesday

A high brick wall, birds
flying in a winter sky —
I have no wings.

Fifth Saturday

Morning light, grey-gold,
flinging long shadows across
the dip of the hills,
and, binding the concave sky
to the earth, a long grey road.

Fifth Friday

Tennis-shoe clad feet
grounded on the grass-specked earth,
root-tangled, flooded
with Colorado sunshine:
true, I have not really changed.

Fourth Friday

Drift and fall of snow
collecting without notice:
slow white weekend thoughts.

Fourth Wednesday

Somehow in this tea
corduroy pipe smoke got mixed
in with the wet leaves.

Third Tuesday

That silver wafer
in a deep blue velvet bowl —
full moon at midnight.

Dritten Dienstag

Silently melting,

reflecting, freezing mirror

of cold clear water.