Author Archives: Don Baird

cleaning house . . . “in vino veritas,”my latest song

sun flare a hummingbird colors my eyes red clover a lone bumblebee sings his song

ocean spraya few syllables landon her diary dream roomthe unusual pathof forgetting

window sill —the fading footprintsof a pink giraffe missing her friend, tearsrun along the cheekbone clouds cross paths a heart knows

falling leaf . . .a spider leadsthe way

empty shell —someone I knowlost at sea

day moon —a starfish surfsmy thoughts