Sunday, July 1, 2012

Fragments from an American Journal

(C) R.L.K.
_______

Tonight this slow old train
rolls on. I sit alone,
staring out the window
and thinking distant thoughts
while the moon drags itself
across a ragged sky.

_______

after rain
a crescent
moon seen through
wind-parted
branches; stars
too, bright as
innocence

_______

What the scene is now
outside my window:
young leaves, brightened by
the sun, flutter in
the wind, daffodils
abound, and an old
wooden bench awaits.