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If You Dance


If you dance, you’ll need some salt.
Tumble down into the vault,
Where the salt is mixed with wind—
No, my dear, it’s not been tinned!
 
Best to take the salt at once,
Lest you turn into a dunce,
Crying with the living dead,
Who do not care what you’re fed.
 
Still, the best is yet to come:
See the dead man bind the drum
To his forehead with a string?
And you thought it was just bling!
 
Do not dread what is to come;
Though the dead man beats his drum
At least he’s not beating you!
All is well, and this is true.

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #216

Guide

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Mid-December rainbow, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, Southern California
 


last autumn rainbow
guiding my stumbling steps home—
wind shifts to the east

 
Haiku and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More SkyWatch Friday
 
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon

Music

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Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
 


desert wind rattling
in a discarded paint can—
this too is music

 
Haiku and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Macro Monday 2
  
More SkyWatch Friday
 
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Music”

Choosing

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Footprint in a sandy wash, Apache County, Arizona
 


choosing a new path
before the wind can erase
yesterday’s footprints

 
 
Haiku © 2016 and photo © 2011 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Haiku Horizons: “Choose”
 
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Path”

Songs

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A dry wash in Apache County, Arizona

 
“I hear America singing,” Walt Whitman wrote, “the varied carols I hear.”
 
I too hear singing, but instead of songs coming from throats of carpenters, masons or boatmen, I hear the songs of sky and star and stone. The songs of weeds and wind and wild things. The songs of crow and cricket and cottonwood. All these songs come from the high desert, and like the Siren songs that seduced Odysseus and his companions, I cannot ignore them.
 
I hear them as I help a student proofread her essay. I hear them while I confer with a parent about his son’s behavior. I hear them while I am grading papers.
 
At day’s end, I slip into comfortable clothing and walk into the nearby wilderness. The stones and weeds and dust greet me with rejoicing. They knew I would come.

 

a cricket chirrups
three stones confer with the wind—
my house is too small

 
Revised haibun © 2016 and photo © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Poetry Pantry #323 at Poets United

Twilight

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Organ pipe cactus (Stenocereus thurberi) blossom, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
 


Not a breath of wind
ruffles the cactus blossom
at the twilight hour.

 
Haiku and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Macro Monday 2
 
More Haiku Horizons: “Wind”
 
More Carpe Diem’s Summer Retreat 2016: “One with Nature”

Spent

Photobucket
Northern Arizona
 


Having spent itself,
the wind settles in the grass
for a lengthy nap.

 
Haiku © 2016 and photo © 2011 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Haiku Horizons: “Wind”
 
More Carpe Diem’s Summer Retreat 2016: “One with Nature”

Storm

Photobucket
Apache County, Northern Arizona
 


summer storm brewing—
a tumbleweed skeleton
quivers in the wind

 
 
Haiku © 2016 and photo © 2011 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More SkyWatch Friday

Despair

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Morning twilight, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
 


not a breath of wind
to hasten the sun’s rising—
teacup leaks despair

 
Haiku and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More SkyWatch Friday

Wind

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A stone-lined pathway at Wupatki National Monument, Northern Arizona
 


power of the wind—
reducing stones to rubble
one grain at a time

 
Haiku © 2016 and photo © 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Wind Power”