among the morning blossoms—
the stone turtle
more stones
bright lights in the coin shop—
jewelry worn off
the queen’s neck
my place
for the oranges—
gravity’s place
the sound of elephants—
the zoo closes
on time
lower clouds coming in—
one old address label
under the new
Trier—
construction workers in dirt
the Romans left
the map folds out—
our trip connecting
dots
morning puddles now dry—
names left out of
his story
not much accumulation
in the old part of the cemetery—
first snow
city center
the streetcar fills up—
people who have a destination
holiday party—
the trash crushed into
one big bag
back door thoughts—
a steady rain with
its own sound