a wildflower blooms overnight from an old clay pot on the deck
today's tattered newspaper lines the walkway
a crisp five dollar bill lands at my feet
seven birds on the wire turn in unison to the right
a child's striped tee shirt with one clothespin is caught on a branch
a large red plastic ball spins down the gutter
a small brown rabbit jumps out of the bushes; peers around, his nose twitches
broken branches, tin can covers, layers of leaves litter the streets
a creaking yellow gate swings on one hinge
white sheets flap furiously on a clothesline
the corner traffic light flickers
the sky is pink and gray with patches of blue
the air is musky, full of desire
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Observations on the morning following a stormy night in summer - previously published in River Poets Journal.
Gorgeous, Judith. The way you've structured this, every line feels like a whole world. *
Beate, Thank you for the high compliment from such a gifted writer as yourself. This is my version of "snapshot poetry" as each line is meant to create an image for a series of paintings I will eventually paint.