Mid-September sky—
 
neither a cloud nor a crow
 
smudges the blueness.

 
 
 

Unexpectedly
 
storm clouds part, and bright blue sky
 
shows itself to me.

 
 
 

California drought—
 
we search the sky for rainbows,
 
but see only smoke.

 
 
 

A hole in the sky—
 
wasn’t the great horned owl there
 
a moment ago?

 
 
 

Deep in thought I walk
 
round and round the labyrinth,
 
ignoring the sky.

 
 
 

In the clear blue sky
 
a hawk circles lazily,
 
riding the updrafts.

 
 
 

A bright winter sky
 
suddenly fills with blackbirds,
 
blotting out the sun.

 
 
 

Sunday morning bliss:
 
blue sky, red flowers, coffee
 
in my chipped white cup

Kite

 
 
 

A red silken kite
 
chases a frightened sparrow
 
through the clear blue sky.

Sky

 
 

Deepening autumn—
 
the sky fills with cirrus clouds
 
and long skeins of geese.