morning glory
when I look deeper
the world disappears

dry creek bed
a saddled horse passes
without a rider

missing child
I pass a snow angel
on a front lawn

I lead the cow away
from her stillborn calf . . .
whippoorwill

layoffs
the blow-up santa
buoyant as ever

last persimmon
the real estate agent
suggests a lower price

north wind . . .
the black walnut grove
stripped to its nuts

late to work
I stop to watch
a snail cross

my brother’s viewing
everyone eager to hold
his infant niece

grandmother’s funeral—
her friends waiting
at the cemetery

from out of an old Chevy
stripped and rusting at the curb
soap bubbles