Small signs of hope in the coming apocalypse: Reborn river moves Tyrannosaur bones upward Ancient grave robber
Small signs of hope in the coming apocalypse: Aspen patters her autumn jingle dress, praying these mountains heal us
Small signs of hope in the coming apocalypse: I lose count after My high-country respite Back home, countless failed haiku Flaunt their abundant profusion Unprunable syllables murmur Sweet somethings that cry out when I cut them Then taunt me with catcalls, cocked hips, air kisses Too many to count
Small signs of hope in the coming apocalypse: At the interface of Air and Fire, Smoke and Ash We hear choppers roar
Small signs of hope in the coming apocalypse: I didn’t plant you but here you are anyway Hello, sweet surprise!
Small signs of hope in the coming apocalypse: Everything depends on the hiss splat drumming thrum dance of living rain
Small signs of hope in the coming apocalypse: Rain lost, overdue Wind roaring dry promises Mountains become fire
Small signs of hope in the coming apocalypse: Tumble bumble bee in luscious delirium of October’s hope
Small signs of hope in the coming apocalypse: Vacation Guide flaunts glossy promises made pre- pandemic, pre-fire
Small signs of hope in the coming apocalypse: Iowa friend pleads Tell them about wind Tell them I’m fine but send help