plain darkness—
a firefly blinks with
the speed of light
drifting into grass—
a child’s bubble
the air didn’t burst
turning over shells—
one new wave
after the other
pigeons between parked cars—
the street named for
an old queen
return visit—
tall grass in my footsteps
doesn’t spring back
a wider view of the mountains—
Dad’s grave not far from
when he was born
steady morning wind—
lottery tickets on top
of the trash
lingering visit—
the hidden mountaintop
next time
visits end—
the mountain top only the host
has seen
near the museum—
children racing
the lawn sprinkler