Pigment of crimson explodes dropping from fine hairs in hand Water down water down No rain in sight A blistering sky reveals itself above a wet cotton pavement

framed pastel mangoes farmers market in Hilo makes my mother proud  

Who do you trust, little girl. A fox or a bear?   Who should lead, little one, The kit or the cub?   Who do you love, little dear, Can you make your choice clear?   Who do you know, little lass, The sly or…

The dog rolls over, her belly a map of the world — islands and continents freckled on a pink sea. Iceland soft and smooth with fine blond hairs. Polynesia. Sri Lanka. On the inner flank of her hind leg the Galapagos, where blue-footed boobies splatter…

Feel the rough textured Canvas. It feels empty. Just close your eyes and feel it. Without even glancing at the canvas, It feels white Like fresh, untouched snow or a pile or table salt. Feel the layers of Dried oils On the pallet. Its texture…