grandpa’s desk
I sharpen a pencil stub
just for the sound

border town — 
all the houses
with a dog to beware of

dry stream bed
only the loud pulse
of cicadas

so many memories
gliding pelicans
rearrange themselves

in the bottom
of a leaky rowboat — 
a glimmer of stars

back to school — 
graffiti visible
beneath fresh paint

twilight
a red pony narrowing
the distance to the barn

creekbed . . .
curlews poke their bills
the whole way in

An anchor dropped . . .
all the stars in place
this last summer night

slow dawn
the first flower
on the marrow plant