This pear

on its thin branch-

midsummer

It's raining

geranium petals-

summer shower

A long row

of little watering cans-

school garden

Nothing remains
in my binoculars-
this empty landscape

Parting-
a boat
of stone

Organ sounds
from the glacier church-
to melt thus

Mountains
not reaching
but resting

A yearling
sucking on the fingers
of my writing hand

The serenity
of the boat trip back-
whale watching

Waking up
from translucent dreams-
midnight sun

Vulcano tour
my love by far
the hottest

The soft sun
of her birthday
does not set

This fjord-
the right words
unfindable

Flies
for lunch
Iceland

Dreams

of homelessness

waking up

An empty well

my desires

bottomless

Like wax

in my wings

your smile

In the garden

chalk on a flagstone

'here lies puz'

After each

exhalation

the miracle

Evening wind

a reed stalk's

ballet

Water butt

its single eye

filled with clouds

Ducklings-

my soul turns

into down

Frogs

croaking tatters

onto the night

Deep and old

the water in the creek

at dusk

Silence
when a beam creaks
I split

Motionless
behind the window
the night

Craquelure

in my plate-

father's soup

Hearing

the woodpecker

and her heart

Without

deep meaning

rain

A last song-

the pebbles on the path

grating

Fresh tea-

the scent of jasmine

and rain