An Honored Guest

Across the east field,
Voices carry from the
Gurdwara and the
Rising sun arrives
At our side gate.

Graphs

Dark clouds close rank
Over a moment and
Upon it empty
All their voltage.
A rage of light
Blinds the mind.
It lingers and
When at last rain
Reclaims control,
The brain is uneasy.
Of itself! yes the soul
Demands proof.
I am always a little
Worried about my roof.

L'heure bleue

She painted an old log
Blue before the last 
Leaf fell, then painted
The hour blue as well.

She paints things blue,
A dear part of her --
Dear to me too
Because I love her.