Blog Archives
Spring Melancholy
1.
I pluck from the shelf
yet another empty cup—
spring melancholy
2.
I sip bitter wine
after laying fresh flowers
on my father’s grave.
3.
I am too jaded
to taste how honeyed the hours
we share together.
4.
I swear at the thorns
that keep snagging my jacket
on the mountain path.
More The Whirligig #423
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
More Friday Writings #77 at Poets and Storytellers United
Three Tiny Tales
1.
Picture an alley
where snow has changed the story—
waste into wonder!
2.
Winter lines her face
with names she can’t remember,
yet they give her grace.
3.
in a freezing room
a curtain for their blanket
happy to make love
More The Whirligig #409
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
More Friday Writings #63 at Poets and Storytellers United
Delicate Letters
1.
My ribs are branches
on which invisible birds
perch on winter nights.
2.
Enter, acrobats!
Begin your parade through town,
though the north wind moans.
3.
I lower my eyes
when I see the light in yours,
Sister Winter Moon.
More The Whirligig #407
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
More Friday Writings #61 at Poets and Storytellers United
Three Free-Wheeling Haiku
1.
In distress my heart
seems to turn into liquid—
bitter winter draught.
2.
Desperate for wings,
I’ll pay whatever they cost—
my new year’s desire.
3.
Cold-weather longing:
to see Paris glittering
while a freight train moans.
More The Whirligig #405
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
More Friday Writings #59 at Poets and Storytellers United
Reclaim Life, Sip Tea!
1.
First tea of the year—
on the surface swims a swan,
singing to the moon.
2.
How lucky I am,
in the absence of a lake,
to have new year’s tea!
3.
O swan with hurt wings,
you won’t die, but be revived
by the year’s first tea.
4.
My mood? Indigo,
but only for a moment—
now, some new year’s tea!
More The Whirligig #404
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
More Friday Writings #58 at Poets and Storytellers United
Haibun: Tabanca
“Here, try this word,” my friend says, and gives me tabanca. She says it means missing something beyond words. How does she know of my longing? Even though there are parades and music and family gatherings during the holidays, I ache for something more. How can I describe it? While grocery shopping, I reflect on being a teacher. I wonder if students everywhere will be safe from gun violence. After so many school shootings, it’s hard to know. I move through the store, picking out things I need: sugar from the bottom shelf, cinnamon from the top. My indescribable longing increases. “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing!” blares out from the store’s sound system, directing my thoughts back to a baby born in a barn in Bethlehem long ago. Love incarnate, the story goes. Love made manifest in human flesh. A Love that never ends. Could it be Love for which I am longing so deeply that I have no words?
My next-door neighbor
makes his house cozy with lights
for the Holy Child.
More The Whirligig #400
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
More Friday Writings #56 at Poets and Storytellers United
Ordinary Moments
1.
The bread remembers
when it was grain in the field—
autumn abundance.
2.
On my autumn walk
I found a breath the raven
left beside the path
3.
For smudging ourselves,
we gather some mountain sage—
November blessing.
4.
Autumn afternoon—
a story told by strangers
causes me to smile.
More The Whirligig #397
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
More Friday Writings #53 at Poets and Storytellers United
Haibun: The Trip
After my father dies, I make the trip to his house for The Great Cleanup. I wonder how he accumulated so much junk during his lifetime. I open a drawer. Old razor blades. A piece of turquoise. A broken thumb drive—probably filled with the advice that my father liked to give, unbidden. I can see his face: “Listen, child, no one’s going to pull you out of the water. It’s sink or swim. So, you swim, hear?” And then he’d hug me fiercely, as if he’d never let me go. But he did. And here I am.
Autumn’s first nightmare—
all the oceans in the world
shrink into puddles.
More The Whirligig #393
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
More Friday Writings #49 at Poets and Storytellers United
Salt the Crows
Salt the crows, the sky, the stillness.
Salt the bush, the web, the stain.
Salt will beat back every illness—
See, your eyes no longer strain!
Salt your mouth in any weather,
Salt the subtle things, the true.
Careful with the salt, however,
For its grains are watching you!
More The Whirligig #391
More Friday Writings #47 at Poets and Storytellers United
Haibun: ‘If My Friend Comes’
My friend might come to eat dinner with me. We could sit by the window and wait and watch for the first star. We could toss down shots of apple juice, and retrace our long, sublime journey of friendship in story and song. If my friend comes to dinner…
In a dusty ditch
a few sunflowers still bloom—
first days of autumn.
More The Whirligig #390
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
More Friday Writings #46 at Poets and Storytellers United
Magical Mystical Teacher 