A Mystery in 27 Syllables

A man in black, waiting
On his front stoop, watching
A woman in blue, watering
In her front yard, wondering.

 

California Bound

Flying over New York at night
The dark Atlantic falls from sight
Trees crowd the winter scene
Toll roads flow like lava stream
Then we turn toward distant shore
Away from family — home once more.

 

The Next Word
For Mei Mei Chang and her grandchildren

You are the next word
In an ancient poem
The first word
Was written many generations ago
In another place
At another time
Now the poem continues
With you
Telling our story
The future of our family.

 

A Peaceful Feeling
For Megan

Your essence is of the sun
On a still day in a small garden
Or of the moon
On a clear night in a calm harbor
Your presence assures me 
All is well 
Or soon will be.