Will you // I have cut my heart / into petals, strewn them / at your feet. // Walk to me. //
Naked trees pull
Naked trees pull thegrey sky close---November's clothdressing their bare limbs ~~~
Pillars of rain
While my background brain sorts out the best order for the chapters of my novel-in-progress, I am returning to haiku. What better place than the lake during a late-summer storm, to roll words around the elements.
Ice cracks across sloughs
A late-winter haiku
It’s that I’m missing you
From time to time, a poem I wrote years ago–like this one–seems exactly pertinent to the current moment.
It’s that I’m missing
you: an empty cavern where
my full heart once was.
but on the trees
Snow falls heavy, thick, but on the trees pink buds, tiny, wait ~~~
Birds, frogs, grasses
Birds, frogs, grasses: Sudden riot of song -- Rain during drought. ~~~
The late March snowfall
The late March snowfall melts on Sunday: brown cows sprawl on matted grass
Moonlit snow records
Moonlit snow records small creatures' escapades. Sun wipes the slate clean. ____________________
Bright star pierces Cobalt sky: Half-moon hangs knife-sharp ____________________