272. The Effect of the Desert

Cold rain falls on us,
splatters our hair, our clothes, our skin;
we still notice it.

269. Christmas Cookies

We cling to habits,
stamping too many cookies
we don't want to ice.

263. Flying at Night

View from the airplane:
the towns look like galaxies,
small clusters of life

251. Broken

A spot on the road,
where a kangaroo once stood.
Now just empty fur.

245. Full Moonlight

Amongst the white stars,
the moon is a single spotlight
pointed at this scene.

241. A Lament for Air Conditioning

The windows rolled down
as we reach one hundred ten,
air punching my face.

235. Layers of Heat

All day, the heat lies

like a sun-soaked wool blanket 

prickling my skin.

233. Just Darkness

The night curves around

the car and the dusty road,

hugging empty space.

229. Barely There

The sliver of moon,
just a slip in the sky,
above the town lights.

219. An Ode to Ideas

Ideas whisper
on the breeze, the dirt, the leaves;
sometimes, they're too soft.

215. Another Day

Pain nudges my arm,
making my finger tingle;
I start to worry.

206. Fly Season

The flies have returned,
so desperate for water
the crawl to my eyes.

202. Barbecue Night

Under the porch lights,
the dialogue grows and aches;
music croons softly.

199. Sun-kissed

The sunshine rouges
both of my cheeks and my nose;
UV makes me glow.

197. Unbroken

Among the gravel
lies a whole, empty snail shell:
Fibonacci's swirl.

196. No Goal in Sight

The ants roam my desk,
dozens run for hours, days,
no aim or endpoint.

176. Signs of Spring

The AC's hum again,
a drone for the hot weather:
time to mellow some.

158. Taming the Butcherbird

The bird comes for lunch,
hopping close, always watching,
plucks bread from our hands.

Unfortunate Reminders

It's terribly wrong
that a site about burnout
makes me check email.

Late Winter

Even in winter,
the sun's heat brushes my skin:
seventy degrees.