Darrell Lindsey


fishing  late

the boat full

of one cricket


note on the door

sudden coolness

of the barbershop pole


country graveyard

a hummingbird

she would’ve loved



the tea picker’s song

in my cup


mountain pine

the flow of notes

against the bone wind


a cricket

jumps toward the radio …

evening jazz


Kyoto moonlight all the dreams  combed  out of her hair