birthday picnic—

grandma’s throw

half way to the toddler

 

we walk the boardwalk hand in hand

          sharing ice cream

     headaches

 

after-dinner mints

passed around the table

. . . slow-falling snow

 

busy Italian restaurant—

happy birthday

sung to the wrong table

 

express checkout

    the fat woman counts

        the thin man’s items

 

at his favourite deli

the bald man finds a hair

in his soup

 

rice chaff

whitens the scoop—

supper alone

 

apples picked

and the casket chosen—

lingering sunset

 

grocery shopping—

pushing my cart faster

through feminine protection

 

a crab apple

from the highest branch

rattles down the rain spout

 

the waiter interrupts

our argument on abortion—

a choice of teas

 

first day of school—

I eat my buckwheat pancakes

in silence

 

bookmobile day—

huckleberries bloom

along the white picket fence

 

breakfast alone

slowly I eat

my melancholy

 

a table for one—

   leaves rustle

in the inner courtyard

 

a deer leaps—

the hunter’s

     closed eye

 

tarnished silver

     the only guest

          eats in silence

 

a withered apple

caught in an old spine rake

. . . blossoms fall

 

gunshot recordings

echo over the vineyard . . .

a grackle’s stained beak

 

a broken bamboo cane—

      ripe tomatoes

      grow along the ground

 

cafeteria line—

the good-looking girl

looks at my plate