his just shaved face
the fragrant coolness
of spring
Month: April 2019
forsythia bush
chirping
yellow
first buds …
the Morse code
of a little bird
bent at the tip
a few of my fingers
aching to bud
Fallow
“Fallow,” a haibun by Roger Jones.
morning news
the rising shriek
of the kettle
bento box
compartmentalizing
my worries
from deadlines
to deadlines-
my unfinished poems
busy all day
with their origami
paper wasps
uncoupling…
row upon row
of fiddleheads
broken marriage
bedrock
of the dry creek
rain shower–
an old man asks for the price
of a walking stick
within rain…
just the fluted song
of a wood thrush
thunder and lightning
holding him close
through the tantrum
long sermon–
biscuits and crayons
passed along the pew
earthsong
a heartbeat
in spring
dappled blue
a Holstein heavy
in the morning haze
our leisurely pace
toward enlightenment
road map the X no one remembers
ice-locked lake
countless footprints
to nowhere
mouth of the river
an ever-changing story
told to the sea
(haiga)
cherry blossom rain
those minutes
I wished away
supernova. . .
the years it took me
to see the light
(Originally published in Mariposa #34)