At the evening marsh,
the sun and the lily pads
float in the grasses.

Low October sun
lights every changing thing,
including us two.

Evening sun falls
behind the shimmering trees,
you say, “Let's turn back.”

At the museum—
beautiful things and ghosts here,
sunshine on Detroit.

What would I become
if I laid down by this tree?
Sun, teaching me things.

Stormy July sky,
we see it coming all day,
waiting with sparrows.

Goldfinches lit up,
changing color as I walk,
their song is yellow.

Tender perfect things,
form and disappear, re-form,
beautiful, each time.