Eight Poems

This spoon fell out
Of my mother's mouth
Before I was born,
But I was endowed
With a tuning fork

THE FOOT

As streams spread
Through a delta
Veins on the instep
Reach the toes

The foot flows

IN MY DIGS

Caked in a glass
That is clear
Yesterday's dregs
Tell me the past
Happened here

WALKING STICK

This stick springs
...