Next Move

He was a war veteran
a young man
with his pocket knife
whittling a walking stick
from a slender branch
beneath the cottonwood
next to the stream
and was considering
his next move
when across the water
he spotted a deer
drinking and unaware
of the danger
of being
unprepared.

Recycling

And in the end
his atoms
were resurrected
building blocks
awaiting
new construction
for
another day.

The Mosquito

I slapped my ear
in the dark
aiming for the buzzing
that in my dream
interrupted a conversation
with who
I cannot remember
but it was important
I was sure.