elements

a fir-smelling night

crumpled crimson moon

through the fire

lingerie on the washing line

abashed sun behind the clouds

on the plane
above life
below laurels

a kaleidoscope

awoken Milky Way

rustles impatiently

after sunset

the spider’s web

still shimmering

ironically enough

the moss

turns green again

a forthcoming storm

my dog reminds himself

of my presence

on the beach

a garden glove

retiring

impatient

for the drift wood

to carbonate

they set a fire

from stone

to stone

too slippery a stone

under over

among the leaves

the wind