Cut back the garden
dress the beds collect some seed
today will be warm
Category Archives: photographs
Haiku for a Tuesday morning
Always last to leave
she perches drinking her fill
many miles to fly
Haiku for Monday morning
the green wall is back
trees working hard through the night
birds seek their shelter
The Morgan
It could have been
a silver mercury portrait,
but a horse appeared
displacing stiff poses,
mane flying, neck muscles
bunched in effort,
galloping through
a glimpse of the past.
Audio: Read by the author.
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A marvelous photo of a Morgan mare by the photographer Deborah Glessner brought up the last two lines of the poem.
Haiku for a friend’s birthday
Walk the hills to home
Where love is found ripening
The true birthday gift
Haiku for a Hummingbird Thursday
And she was still here
Sipping nectar for her trip
End of summer gift
Audio: Read by the author.
Haiku for a Saturday afternoon
Dog rests on my foot
Gray rain and cooling to fall
Hummers are still here
Haiku for a sunny Friday
Few bugs eager dogs
Humid air stuck somewhere else
Out the door to woods
Connection
In song, music puts its hands around my heart and my words think tears are a puddle to splash through, shoeless. Color often stops my breath, and I am its willing prisoner. A sudden memory coming on fast might need release. Any of these call up joy or tears, and it is all wonderful. To me. When the signal comes they might glide to me in a waltz, or whirl up on the skirts of a wild mazurka. Better yet, ride in on the smoothness of an alto sax.
Until then
There may still be
wind, that has not kissed
my face
Or light on vernal
water, not seen through
my lens
Or singing, that has
yet to hum along
my bones
Or time with friends, dancing
in green waves, sand on
my feet
Or words to share, flowing
from the mouth of
my heart
But, there was always love, with
you, so if I skip the rest
to waltz out in your arms,
It will be enough to
know these gifts waited
with me, just in case.
Audio: Read by the author.
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A birthday poem for Mike
A haiku for place with notes
up the dipping road
mountain arm is bear’s shoulder
my home lies below
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Multiple joys of September, cloud fingers dip into mountain creases, swamp maples step forward, my pine flags flying, one more trip around the sun complete
the sound that quiet makes
this day of gratitude
is warm
wrapped with a hush
across the wild place
outside my door
hours lived at stop action pace
intermixed with grace note quiet moments
two horses graze across the road
jay scrabbles punctuating feeder flights
cars mostly absent never missed
trees almost bared
their shapes old friends
I look out to woods and placid beaver ponds
where birds flicker as small animals move
darting in counterpoint to anchored brown
such richness.
such richness in this temporary state
layerings of memory and love
not quite speaking underneath the flow
from earth to foot to heart
gravity confounded by life
flowing to the sky
and thanks are offered up
