4:17 a.m.

sudden crack of thunder
sends the dog skittering
and me reaching to close the window

time flies

he grins a new gap-toothed grin
and i see only a flicker
of the round-cheeked baby boy

twilight

burnt-out bulbs
cast softening shadows
and silence in the half-light

serious backlog

i have serious backlog of 'stones to post.

it's come to the point where it almost feels desperate.

it's just that i never have my journal handy when i sit down at the computer.

prepare to be inundated.

route No.5

it smells of coffee and shampoo
quiet voices seep through silence
and rain drips through a leaky window

change in the weather

scratchy hug of wool
on bare skin
it's nice to feel cold again

thwarted

the short, sharp chirp
of an outraged robin
the Bloody Cat slinks away

overheard at the park

she accuses him of being
frightened of von Nebula
indignant, he insists upon a core-recharge

scattered showers

six drops
fat and wet
hit my up-turned face

elderly man at the splash-pad

skin like chocolate midnight
shuffling in cool pools
against the heat of high summer

beetle vs. vine

stripped to the bone
skeletons swing in the hot breeze
as the iridescent army marches on

mr.scarlett

breathless with pain
he holds himself up with the wall
and worries for the future of his cats

47 Celsius

hot wind blows
pedaling through soupy air
i grin out across the sparkling water

swimming pool

the water is thick
with chlorine warmth
with a rim of cool on the edge

city hall courtyard

silent fountain under
leadened sky
city workers click past in the heavy morning air

return

low hum rising
to electric buzz
the cicada's are awake

the turn of the wheel

night lingers longer
5 am darkness
and the conspicuous quiet of still-sleeping birds

road work

the air shimmers and ripples
wafting a stench of hot asphalt
sunburned men laugh and shout in Italian

afternoon commute

at first i don't notice the halted line of traffic
but then i pedal past
and grin to myself

breakfast

butter melts into the craters
and crevasses
of a perfectly toasted bagel

heat wave

the air is thick and wet
air conditioners hum ceaselessly
as i drag the hose to the thirsty garden

greeting

the aged man halts
his shuffling walk to wave and grin
i'm left smiling the whole way home

june bug

armoured grub
caked in soil
emerging to greet the evening

looking up

blue sky and sunlight
filter through dancing leaves
and green linden berries

eavesdropping

cigarette smoke and barbeque sauce
mingles with quiet conversation in the
muted symphony of a summer night

morning commute

pedaling along the lake road
the scent of the air is haunted
by the echoes of a distant sea

sanctuary

aching muscles and tired soul
melt into the peace
of being home

snaphsot

clover-peppered hillside
fifteen pairs of flip-flops
and a bright orange blanket

poolside

stinging eyes and flashing smiles
brown, red, white, black
they swim in universal waters

coming home

the trees are greener
the sky is bluer
and the air smells of incense and coffee

in the garden...early

too-sweet coffee and cloud-scudded skies
quiet after the chaos
the world waits for wakefulness

hunted

tiny, brown-furred
clinging to life
on an old tea-towel