Murmurations

Winter sun wrestles     with remnants of rain,
and see, the bay's     surface shimmers;
murmurations     of birds are rolling
like white breakers     at Ocean Beach,
and I'm lucky     to live here, but
I'd still rather     be stuck in some
inland empire     shithole apartment,
no scenery but     a log-in screen,
with you.

Wish i could msg

I'm bored at work     and want to call,
just to say hi     and hear you is all.
Or maybe I'll message;     not much is new,
just something to suffix     less-than-three U.

I Want to Tell You

How our son, as usual skeptical, is loving bike-riding camp;
I saw him gleeful, rumbling over a makeshift wooden ramp!

Blackberry Offering

Blackberries are back     in their brambles along
CalTrain's chain-link     fence by the tracks.
Hardly a handful yet--    the handlebar-basket-
fulls of summer and fall     are still in flower.
We used to always     bring you a sample.
I'll just keep one     plump juicy berry
for the bird-feeder     basket by our house.

Hummingbird

Hon, did you send     that hummingbird?

Zip!

Baby birds     on twigs a-twitter,
bumble-bees     in blossom-cups
gathering honey's     gritty ingredients:
tokens of spring-tide.     And stretched-out cats!
But one that warms     my heart after winter
in particular,     well I'll tell you:
little lizards     lying so still
on sun-warm rocks,     'til they see you--zip!

Fall Leaves Again

Fall leaves lingered     but they let go finally,
drummed away     by raindrops overnight,
and our street's turned     into a tapestry:
green and golden     and glorious.