Small stones #4-7

My son asks me to time him, then bolts down the sidewalk and out of sight between two strangers. He returns at top speed, twelve long seconds later.

4 Jan 2013

 

the binoculars reveal distant waves
crawling slowly across the horizon

5 Jan 2013

 

Sunlight breaks through the sky over Capitola, surrounding the surfers with a silvery glare. Along the horizon, a thin bright line underscores the massed grey clouds.

6 Jan 2013

 

The day after
the sky’s pink and orange haze
matches my own

7 Jan 2013

Small stone #3

Jupiter shines, a pale yellow beacon, almost directly overhead. In the distance, the sound of freeway traffic, like surf.

untitled

scattered gravel
along the bike path
and one old
champagne cork

25 Canadian Tanka Poets in French and English : Atlas Poetica

I’m amazed and honored to see a poem I wrote included in this collection of Canadian tanka. There is even a translation into French (not by me) — a first for me.

one petal
from the princess tree
clings to the windshield—
I drive away
looking in the mirror

un pétale
de l’arbre impérial
s’accroche au pare-brise
je démarre
en regardant dans le rétroviseur

via 25 Canadian Tanka Poets in French and English : Atlas Poetica.

Some haiku from November

after the last train a man works the floor polisher alone almost

snow calculus — the slow accumulation
of almost nothing

turning the corner into the sudden warmth of sunlight

in a light rain
a woman pushes a shopping cart, singing “Wish You Were Here”

new glasses: all of my mistakes now painfully clear

the wool smell
of grandfather’s army coat —
frost-tipped leaves

(contributed to the 1,000 Verse Renga Project)

clearing sky–
cherry petals lying blown
upon the asphalt–
what have you taught us
except to fall, and fall, and fall?

published in American Tanka #16