dusk —
coiling the hose
around a glowworm

firefly night —
muffled giggles
from the small boys’ tent

war news . . .
the cat chases
her tail

hard rain
the sizzle of summer peppers
in the skillet

tink and splat
of rain on garden tools —
ragtime in my head

summer evening
friends compete
to thread my needle

the newspaper open
a moth rests
on my knuckle hairs

distant thunder
the last cookies in the jar
both burned

predawn rain . . .
the dog’s tail whapping
as we doze

rainy morning —
a thick-fingered teller
doles out dollar bills