four blue spruces
form a boundary
along the south side
at the base of the hill
a splendid reminder
of all that is good
by the start of summer
their needles turn brown
prematuring dying
and likely affected
by the great imitator
lurking in the wood
may two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Fast asleep by midmorning
I dream of never waking
of sailing past an open sea
My shell is like a water vessel
blending into the horizon
melting into a fiery sun
Transforming into nature
I stay awake forever
casting hope into a dark night
april two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
a murder of crows
bide their time
on the outskirts of town
waiting patiently
as the virus
gripped the residents
with fever and fear
death by death
the murder grew larger
their calls becoming
creepingly human
their strategy
instinctively fine-tuned
and well orchestrated
the devastation
never aired anywhere
no mention of crows
nor intelligence
of any pandemic
ever germinating
in an alien field
april two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
i am the bird
resting
alone on a wire
listening to the wind
and waiting
for something to die
i am the wind
blowing from the east
bringing fresh air
to a flower
desperate
for better days
i am the sunrise
on a cloudless morning
burning the sky
with intensity
and promising
life after life
december two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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