deep winter dive bar stares from an unfamiliar face
Month: January 2020
preparing my face
for the other faces
class reunion
revolving doors
the lies
we tell ourselves
Walden Pond
the whistle of a train
crosses the years
morning quiet
a minnow
nabs a gnat
wheelchair tai chi
a dragonfly
flexes its wings
pond strider the silence of Cassiopeia
(Originally in Autumn Moon Haiku Journal 2:2, Spring/Summer 2019)
late road trip
pulled over
by the full moon
rush hour
a cross-hatch
of contrails
spring afternoon
every passing car throbs
with hip-hop
evening fog
I follow frogsong
all the way home
no fly in a flicker of the bluetongue’s tongue
plain brown bulb
the mystery
of becoming
(haiga)
a new mountain
trail in my chest
defibrillator
submerged skiff-
all the fish
it catches
rent arrears
my son’s goldfish swims
around its castle
beached seaweed
all the tangles
of this life
falling light
rinses over his face…
father at the sink
crow’s nest
in the crook of a tree
winter bones
growing
at an angle
winter sapling
northern lights
the blur of scarves
as skaters pass
(haiga)