stiff

mom's facial
whipped meringue --
an egg cracks

Eight Maids a Milking?

Does this mean they were
all lactating, or did each
come with her own cow?

Ah. True Love...

No matter how small
the mirror, she can always
find her reflection.

Hey, you!

a squirrel
at the roof's edge,
complaining.

Sunday Morning

Through tangles,
cold winds comb the leaves
from sleeping elms.