meditation retreat -
breaking silence to talk
to a deaf dog

chasing dragonflies-
the little boy stops to check
his empty hand

loosening the rusted gate
in the grackle's throat -
rare winter sun

a passing bus
fills my window with
its emptiness

pear blossoms scattered
on the pavement -
white petals drifting
on an oily stream

london

sunday morning, empty streets -
the clicking of unseen heels
against damp pavement

blind man

old blind man on the
street - a pretty little girl
tosses you a glance

only the wind

only the wind flows
through this dry creek bed-
it was your glance
that set me adrift

westcave

echoing against
the walls of the cave -
the silence of our embrace

one by one these words
fall - paper stars burning in
the fire of your arms

cow creek

silhouette of pine
against the moonlit sky -
from this motionless cloud
the voice of an owl

winter sun

stretching out to fill
a sliver of sun
as it arcs across the floor
the cat watches me
through narrowing eyes.

cold front clouds

cold front clouds
blown taut across the sky -
blue grey skin
stretched thin
over the exposed ribs
of the season

empty branches black with rain -
but the stream is filled with gold


Tom Spencer © 2018