Ha, marauding birds!
 
I’ve picked all the apricots—
 
nothing’s left for you.

 
 
 

Only in a dream
 
does rain refresh my garden—
 
summer’s drought deepens.

 
 
 

Summer morning walk—
 
I smile at yellow dahlias
 
in a stranger’s yard.

 
 
 

pilgrim at midnight
 
worrying rosary beads
 
till the first bird sings

 

 
 
 

Sizzling summer day—
 
my old, arthritic tabby
 
snoozes in the sun.

 

 
 
 

California drought—
 
I dream of clear, cold water
 
seeping from a spring.

 
 
 

A few stray raindrops,
 
scarcely umbrella-worthy,
 
splash on my bare head.

 
 
 

Summer’s first journey—
 
the path that seemed straightforward
 
took some turns and twists.

 
 
 

My neighbor’s daughters
 
keep practicing soccer moves—
 
shimmering heat waves.

 
 
 

First days of summer—
 
California hillsides blaze
 
with unholy fire.