
Cuatro décimas
¿Después de dos meses? Sí
¡Milagro! Creo

Rain on a grid

Piddly puddles ponded on the drive

Iris, after the rain



Rio Samba

Altissimo



The sky is so unsettled
Contrails cross into a flying X
Wavy clouds make me wonder
What have they been smoking?
Maybe my wrinkled eyes are playing tricks
My camera plays witness for the verdict
The clouds were high in the sky

Booms lowered
Oh! Stopped in my tracks
Orders of red lights flashing
Now the bells are ringing
Did I mention how I sat and waited?
Only fifteen passengers zipped by
Gosh! Those three train cars
Go upwards of 450 passengers, not mph
Like I could almost feel
Every dollar burning in my hand