survivor's guilt

lines on the street

survivor's guilt

I can drive my Honda

the old guy from my building

with the heart condition

waits on the bus, bundled

in late winter freeze

*yes, I give him a ride if we are headed in the same direction

dreaming windmills

dreaming windmills

seeing one, standing short-stacked

against the pink apartment building

loving what I dream

living disbelief

looking once again

a tree branch, broke apart

hanging across the trunk

bare arms of winter tree

bare arms of winter tree

ebony harmony

swaying beautiful because

it has survived

and spring shows its nose

turning that corner

in crocus pocus

in buds of rose