Baklava
 
La Madrugada
 
Oatmeal
 
August 4th
 
Where are you going?
 
Sunset Trail
 
Richie
 
Ancestral Crimes
 
Peaceful Here
 
First Day
 
Early Morning Prayers
 
Feline Wisdom
 
Yellow Canyons
 
Edge of the World
 
Silver Weaver
 

 
Grace 

She stands tall
and proud.
Uncombed
yellow hair
flies in the wind,
licks the blue sky
dancing
haywire
on her
head.

She bows
and butts
saffron head
to green carpet.
Heart shaped hands
wave hello
like the queen
passing in a car.

She’s mature.
Full, round.
Her face droops south,
seeds bulge
from her forehead.

Day after day,
she stands
in my garden,
aging with grace.

 

 Diane Sherman