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 […]
Jupiter shines, a pale yellow beacon, almost directly overhead. In the distance, the sound of freeway traffic, like surf.
scattered gravel along the bike path and one old champagne cork
I made a short, clickable Tapestry story out of an old poem I wrote but had never published. I hope you like it.
clear darkening sky and the sounds of the neighbor’s party — a swallow darts over the treeline My first contribution to Fiona Robyn’s mindful writing challenge. Happy new year!
deep night– after the neighbor stops yelling at her children the mockingbird begins to warble Published in A Handful of Stones, September 6, 2010
one drop trembling on the lip of the lily Published in the Fall 2010 issue of Frogpond
inside the tight curlof the yucca leafa wood spider haiku published on A Handful of Stones, 19 August 2010
3 floors above the alley where 2 young men examine 1 paycheck a window box of geraniums and a gray satellite dish and– what made me look– wind chimes ringing out 6/1/2010 published in A Handful of Stones, Oct 2, 2010
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 […]
after the last train a man works the floor polisher alone almost snow calculus — the slow accumulationof almost nothing turning the corner into the sudden warmth of sunlight in a light raina woman pushes a shopping cart, singing “Wish You Were Here” new glasses: all of my mistakes now painfully clear the wool smell […]
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
One thing follows another,as sure as teeth meshwith teeth, the pinion turns the gear,the axle drives the wheel and the worldtumbles forward on its pivot:Some things are reversible,allowing for the unavoidable backlash,a little play, a wiggle in the works,a slap in the gears, the jerk of each caras the train gets underway,the taking up of […]
The rosin dust on the violinist’soldest violin is white,like the chalk beneath the wordswhere children learn to writethe equations that will definethe arcs and angles of their work.Rosin is the trace of a hundredthousand notes, silent, no sparkremaining but the sense that allhas come to rest: the scratcheson the indestructible stands,the shabby folding chairs, matchesin […]
Calder sculpture; a single brown leaf tumbling from the sky published in The Heron’s Nest VIII.2, June 2006 This is my first published haiku outside of tinywords.