Gravity

by Michael Estabrook

the sky with all its blue
tumbling down through the branches and leaves
of the trees reaching
all the way to the ground.

Morning Glories

by Michael Estabrook

In my wife's garden at dusk bats flit above
azaleas and forsythias while below in the final
moments of twilight paper-thin pink morning glories glow

blue river

by Michael Estabrook

The golden eagle swoops down,
the sun blazing off its wings,
lands beside
the blue river, and watches me
with one black immobile eye
as I stand alone
on the bank and fish.

Red Rose

by Michael Estabrook

In the back yard a ragged row
of rose bushes stretches
from fence to fence
salmon, yellow, orange, pink, pinker,
white, orange, pink again

In the middle of the pinkest bush
a single wine-red rose reflects the sun
Monet painted
with a final spurt of color
as a bluebird streaks by