First autumn sorrow—
 
an email from an old friend
 
says his wife just died.

 
 
 

blooming just in time
 
for the old man’s funeral—
 
his wife’s hollyhocks

 
 
 

In a withered field,
 
a withered husband and wife
 
call their missing cat.

Travel

 
 
 

On the road again—
 
will my wife think to water
 
my morning glories?

War

 
 
 

at the next table
 
a husband and wife at war
 
staring at their phones

Punjab

 
 
 

He thought the Punjab
 
would give him wife and children—
 
taunting temple bell.