Mind Games
I dust the house every day. But the cobwebs creep in, dangling from corners. Fine dust settles on every surface like an unwanted guest who gets a kick out of knowing that he is unwanted. I check the windows, draw in the curtains, slide mats into the gaps under tightly shut doors. Yet, a fly gets in, buzzing across my breath. I grab the swatter and rise. The fly settles on a porcelain figurine of the Buddha.
stepping out
in the middle of night
a white lotus
Parallel Worlds
The motionless lake mirrors the morning. There is nothing the dew has not touched, lending the park a greener green, and a quieter quiet.
I step closer to the water, almost afraid of disturbing the air.
A great flap of white takes off from somewhere near the edge in a magnificent display of feather power. Gracefully, the stork circles the lake once as if to find me before soaring away into the clear sky.
lone cloud
shape shifting
on the day’s checklist
