infusions XXIII – XXX

I.V. XXIII

two butterflies.
one, the blue butterfly
two, the dog flitting through tall grass

I.V. XXIV

Don’t straighten my meandering stitch
When I walk in the mountains
I’m sidetracked by flowers

I.V. XXV

grass outside the window tipped in wheat
a hummingbird returns to a flower gone to seed

I.V. XXVI

The pane of glass with the bee bee hole
shattered today, strange to be so attached

I.V. XXVII

rose hips on a rose
-colored night
each day the same path
ordinary me

I.V. XXVIII

How many times do I
have this conversation
with myself? Would he have
lost his hammer this way?

I.V. XXIX

You thought you had a speck in your eye
but it was just the spirit peeking out

I.V.  XXX

Hunter-gatherer of what, snap beans and blueberries
watermelon juice dripping from your chin?

5 thoughts on “infusions XXIII – XXX

  1. Losing that hammer, a whole story in itself … I really enjoy the pictures and (other) connotations you evoke, obvious sometimes, sometimes obscure.

penny for your thoughts

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