(2013)
Haiku about friends
Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.
Sometimes wonder about a star, way afar. How life might be in outer space,
The dance of fear, Of not being enough, Stops and starts. The unknown, an Uncharted sea,
Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes
Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light
Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay
On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes
In the noble purpose of my life, In the clear and quiet chamber Of my soul, In the open and warm cave Of my heart,
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
Red sun in the morning rolling up the side of earth. The sky turned pink, as a ball of fire showed it’s strength,
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old