Eighth Stone

In the moment
between dark and light,
a single cirrus cloud
smudges a smoky streak
across the sky
above the ridgeline.

Seventh Stone

A sliver of porcelain--
new moon riding low
over the Atlanta skyline.







Photograph courtesy of Andrew McMillan

Sixth Stone

Red-headed finches
ornament bare branches
until the wind flicks
them off their perches.





Photograph courtesy of nechemore

Fifth Stone

From my mother's porch
I watch the sky lighten.
As the fog clears,
a cloud bank lies draped
like an ermine stole
around the shoulders
of Mount Diablo.



Photograph courtesy of Patrick Smith

Fourth Stone

The leafless maple's limbs
a silhouetted tracerie
a complicated calligraphy
against the deep blue and
washed yellow of early dawn.

Third Stone

The camellia's branches
tremble in the chilly breeze,
one flower still clinging.
Blush pink petals lie beaten
into the sodden ground
by the rain.

Second Stone

8:53 am, Sunday, 2 January, 2011 - Walnut Creek

A scarlet poinsettia rises from my mother's sink where it is soaking--a riot of flames above the water.