tinywords is back! Issue 12.1 begins Monday, Oct. 1, 2012. Enjoy. And thanks for reading.
new coolness
the blueberry bushes
picked clean
afterthoughts
the cricket’s voice
in deep leaves
news of your death
when I open my eyes
green leaves
(previously published in the May/ June 2012 Sketchbook, 3rd place in the SSH Summer Kigo contest)
jacarandas
the bee still comes
to the fallen
Friday afternoon
butterfly rests
on the wind
damselfly wings
the slant of the sunlight
between leaves
across his face
the light that slowly moves
across his field
milk moon
the spring stampede
to green pasture
distant thunder
ants inside
a broken egg shell
twilight trees
birds go in and out
of song
steam escaping
from the rice cooker
dreams of travel
drinks on the beach
the jiggle
in a pelican’s throat
dock sunset
the silvery pinks
of loose fish scales
the heavy worm
twisting between my fingers
sunlight on the hook
another sunset
another gnat
swims in the wine
dawn garden
a spotted fawn nibbles
at my resolve
evening sun
helping my dad
tend the cosmos
batting cage nets
catching only
the dawn wind
daydreaming
on an old tire swing
grief gives way
out field grass
THROUGH A FILM OF SOOT AND GREASE
FACTORY WINDOWS
(concrete poem)
homesick?
the same ingredients
tasting different
all that remains
of this childhood dream
white-washed bones
and a feathered wing
still flapping in the breeze
we needn’t talk —
the night whispers
tales long forgotten
owls hooting
somewhere in the darkness
I enter
the last digit
of her number
saying what i mean
the windsock
changes angle
my favorite color
doesn?t matter?
cherry blossoms
leaky roof
we argue about
politics
lengthening shadows
he talks to me
about downsizing
tying my shoes
lately the ground
seems so low
61st birthday–
making the plum jelly
a little sweeter
the stillness
as the honor guard
takes aim
back from war
the soldier cleans
his room
antique ruby
his grandmother’s dreams
on my finger
fireworks display
the momentary glow
on her face
heat lightning the way your hand rests on mine
tree climbing
the smallest child
the highest up
deep sea fishing
the boy’s bluster lost
in the whitecaps
mitten drawer ?
mending the holes
left by her child
job offer–
champagne and fried fish
on the table
all the ingredients
we need to start fresh
going out of business
an extra belly rub
for half-priced Buddha
magnifying glass
an ant pauses
to examine me
sunny day —
telling time by my cat’s
choice of window
this slum with a moon in every puddle
The many notes
of the falling rain,
all in tune.
(haiga)
under the half moon bridge
this upside-down world
heat wave
the blackened skins
of roasting chilies
beating sun
the butcherbird’s
open throat
young coconut
beside a wet machete
her breath
magpie
on the barbed wire fence
he swears he’ll change
queen-size bed
sometimes I wonder
where you go to
green field
fallow field
a scarecrow?s
patchwork
life
laid off
the snowman
without a scarf
sub-zero
even the snow
slows down
slate sky . . .
deleting the dead
from my Christmas list
not enough time
to think things through —
black ice
Christmas Eve
the strip club parking lot
covered with snow
(originally published in Mayfly, Winter 2010)
New Year’s snowstorm
I unwrap
the calendar