Micropoems
by Keith R. Courtad

haunted by algorithms-
the next suggestion is
life after death

                                                            un-rung for decades
                                                            the church bell
                                                            nested with wasps

the woodpecker insists-
there is still life inside
the dead sycamore

                                                            ghost in the shell-
                                                            cicada clinging
                                                            to shagbark hickory

tremolo-
the owl sings
a twisted sheet

swarming pointillism-
bees in nectar daze
pinned to fallen apples

                                                            tracks in the snow
                                                            reveal more
                                                            than any underwear drawer

the wind leaps
from stalk to stalk
rustling the cornfield into song

                                                            suddenly-
                                                            the smell of a baseball card
                                                            from 1987

in a creek
crowned with sunlight
minnows turn as one