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Rumbles of thunder
promise that soon fat raindrops
will bring refreshment.
Formally over
twelve years of learning to look
good on this one night.
Deciding who to
take like negotiating
Mideast peace treaty.
The play was about
them. His unrequited love
her indifference.
He sent sensitive
documents to a stranger
thinking it was me.
All around it, the
town is dead. Pity the poor
taken investors.
She curls around the
baby like a spiral shell
protecting its snail.
An unexpected
crocus emerges, smiling
from a brown leaf pile.
Florida is the
cheese at the end of the maze
known as air travel.
From a Revealing
start to this auspicious point -
my life in short form.
Slanting through speckled
panes, turning cobwebs into
faerie gossamer.
Muddy quads, walls bare
of ivy still inspire awe.
Can we get in?
Ph.D.s waitress
here, M.A.s babysit, ’cause
no one wants to leave.
Haiku, like bonsai,
needs care and pruning. A mind
unfocused kills both.
Incrementally
I clean unearthing a clear
space on the table.
Wan, pale, red-eyed, she’s
the poster wife of Wynette’s
song, “Stand By Your Man.”
Hats, gloves, put away
in optimism return
for winter’s last gasp.
Bergamot infused
leaves unfurl comfort. Problems
dissipate like steam.
From an estate sale -
pendulum clock. Westminster
chimes now count my days.
Like a jeweler
displaying gems on velvet
wealth gleams beyond reach
Flushing Meadows Park
once a site of hope. There, a
globe pledged future peace.
On a cluttered Queens
balcony he stands, watching
the complex decay.
a dilemma of
riches in tiny topaz
the art of language
“Read my poem? Please?”
In real life I’d get blank stares.
Here, you’re back for more.
Just over five months
This one four hundred fifty
Art or wasted time?
A haiku a day?
Not quite. Some days the tap runs,
some days it’s bone dry.
the constant dripping
nature’s tears of joy as she
sees her world reborn
Days grow longer like
smiles that stretch wider as one
greets a long lost friend.
Reclaiming the word,
she grabs the bitch by the horns
and makes us all proud.
Like the extra hour
when we fall ahead, this one
day a trick in time.
see also Inconstant blogger
That you’ve found me and
read my life in seventeen
syllables floors me.
Today J begins
flying not yet a driver
the sky’s the limit
They walk the carpet.
We eat takeout Chinese and
scream for our favorites.
Dreams of Oscars like
sugarplums dance in their heads.
Hollywood’s Christmas.
Kid in candy shop
I dab on product in search
of my true colors.
Longing to hug them,
I wait ’til they flutter near
like moths to my flame.
Got a new camera.
What moments will it capture
in pixels and bytes?
Ransacks the kitchen.
Demands she needs chocolate.
Pacified by Dove.
Magician’s magic
weather trick. One degree - rain
turns to ice. School closed.
See democracy
happen. It happens if you
exercise your right.
Snow releases its
grip as small drops melt merge run
in noisy trickles.
I go into the
booth knowing the past, making
the future my choice.
Super Tuesday looms.
GOP, Dems cast votes. Dub
ya - ya won’t be missed.
He had a dream but
his murder was our nightmare.
It’s time to wake up.
I’ll Dramamine my
self into torpidity,
sleep through drink service.
Like catching snowflakes,
this melts quickly from the heat
of a stressful month.
My spare bedroom holds
many possibilities
under all that junk.
I burn candles and
incense. Maintain silence. Find
myself in nothing.