Missing Wilderness

by Jamie Seibel 

 
Notice the untouched stone
along a twilight shore. 
 
How its winding path leads
to non-human tracks. 
 
We must recall the touch
of flesh on stamen. 
 
A glimpse of wild bloom
before the gardener returns. 

Aging

 by Jamie Seibel
 
The shore is an old man 
of sand wrinkles 
and folds.
A paper crane,  
flies north 
as I pick up
the bone of a fish,
hoping to replace mine
and swim downstream.