Category: Issue 25.1

spring equinox a crack splits the frozen river  

river rush trees green into birdsong

the rite of spring piccolos rush the conductor  

new regime… daffodils gauge the weight of each snowflake  

negotiations another day of snow  

left up all winter signs from fall’s election warped

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dinner date all his attention on the menu  

wet leaves clinging to my shoes… new resolutions  

Whispering Wind   On my early morning walks, I often search for the red-tailed hawk perched in the topmost branch of a cottonwood. From this vantage point, she

a hawk soars over this snowbright mountain —first dream of the year  

subtle shifts of a swallow-tailed kite twilight jazz

Gita chanting birds become the ellipsis       (Originally received an Akita International Haiku Award, September 2014, Honourable Mention)

awakenings the ping of first sap in the bucket  

seventh heaven a lotus breaks the surface

the call to prayers — in the din of Diwali a ghee lamp glistens

zen garden cat prints through the raked sand  

dreamworker the dog at the door of childhood  

grave frost in my cupped hands a robin’s weight  

church bells reaching for belief

the vows I’ve made— moving the hose from tree to tree

grieving a fire I embroider trees my needle a wand raising old growth if only on cloth  

redwoods strengthening my password to blue sky

a half-moon— the things she remembers she soon forgets  

multiverse – the thirty-six views of Mount Fuji    

small talk a tongue of fog creeps up the coast   (Originally published online in Ginza Poetry Society Kukai)

talking politics my line hangs up in the lake bed  

the fire in his belly brook trout    

dusk a fluff of cottonwood wends its way to the pond  

Roadside Rationalizing I never have a plan. Like a watermelon at the end of its vine, I find myself where I’m supposed to be. out of gas another shooting star  

another stranger far from home… lone coyote  

mesa shadows sheltering briefly in the adobe ruins

canyon wren – a concert in the cacti

bird nest in the porch light Mother’s Day  

Mother’s Day — in her 50s cookbook handwritten notes

family tree the twist of a strangler fig  

wing-worn geese … this urge to leave home to find home    

gated complex in the grip of wisteria