Focuses My World

Sun patches on leaves;
Bright dark shadows on the barn;
Yellow dots in field.










Party's done again;
Balloons will hang on the pole
Deflated, finished.








They're fixing the fence:
"Gotta cut down the bushes"
To find where it is.

Every sound intrudes
On the soft mottled morning.
The woods holds its breath.

Daisies daunt the sun
Challenging it to shine bright
So they might reflect.












Stone in my sandal:
Small, knife-edged and persistent
Focuses my world.

The poppers are out
To be smashed on a child's hand
Like a paper bag.












Wound against the tree
Lone clover highlights the trunk--
Single purpleness.