Roger Abe

on a muddy bank bird footsteps disappear into the water
	Tanabata— so many night lights for sleeping garden stones
craving the first taste I misunderstand the worth of pickled radish
	absent-eyed the cat pushes, pushes on the bedding far cries of wild geese
feel them strike and trill the circling playground sprinklers the steel fence, the moon
	no confusion— the passion fruit grow plump when watered
at the river’s edge I name my fluttering soul— broad-winged damselfly
	winter willow— your leaves pointing the way of everything
all night winter rain pitter-patters in my sleep I awake, fluent
	caressing my cheek my cat pretends he’s a cherry blossom

All poems copyright by Roger Abe. They may not be used for any purpose without explicit permission.