When I was five I walked by myself each day to kindergarten/ after being shown the seven block...

The tree is ablaze/ in the early morning rays/ its smokeless branches/ are flames/ licking/...

The breeze is gentle here/ on the other side of the peninsula,/ away from the incoming wind,/ where the...

The weathered picnic table/ is missing as much paint as it retains,/ splintering me, where my elbow rests/ and...