The Blizzard Whines

The blizzard whines through willow, bends the whole thicket, but one last leaf fluttering loose

Frog Pond Haiku

When I pass a still pond of water, especially during the spring when the Frogs are sounding, I think of Basho's poem Old pond frog jump in plop I have not read it in the original Japanese--cannot is more accurate--but have read that in the Japanese the poem is such an onomatopoeic poem that sound … Continue reading Frog Pond Haiku →

I am of two birds whether the feeder's sure seed or hunger of horizons Writelee initially piloted this yesterday. It is Goodby and Retrospective 1. From May 30, 2018

On the End of the Daily Post

I am of two birds whether the feeder's sure seed or hunger of horizons Broken

A Promise is so Easy to Give Up

No rainbow over parched pastures. Flood’s promise—mud in a dwindle pool In response to Daily Prompts word of the day, with a broken heart

In Summer Expectancy

This May rain :: dull sheen on stone, chill wind-shook-leaves— apple blossom buds. Responding to the day and the prompt: Premature

A Meadow Lark Whistles

Wind clacks in willows A Meadow Lark whistles I will sit a while. Still.

Looking for Blessings

Old man’s eyes scan blue beyond cottonwood grove where child saw orange bird.

Contemplations on Suburban Day Off Rituals

Yellow dandelions Lawn mower :: heads cut off Green :: so bland and plain.

When a Flower Blooms

Bitter root blooms, old man won’t turn head to see fog-veils lift off Maiden Breast Hill,