Tags
Frogpond, haiku, little poems, poetry, Published Poems, senryu
downpour-
a duck waddles away
from the pond
the happy chap
says good morning
…to himself
Frogpond vol. XIV: no. 2 Summer 1991
30 Thursday Jun 2022
Posted Frogpond, haiku, Published Poems, senryu
inTags
Frogpond, haiku, little poems, poetry, Published Poems, senryu
downpour-
a duck waddles away
from the pond
the happy chap
says good morning
…to himself
Frogpond vol. XIV: no. 2 Summer 1991
29 Wednesday Jun 2022
Posted Frogpond, haiku, Published Poems, senryu
inTags
Frogpond, haiku, little poems, poetry, Published Poems, senryu
at the ocean’s edge
honeymooners in the sun
build a sandcastle
quiet evening-
a spider walks its shadow
on the wall
without thought
until after
squashing the gypsy moth
in the attic
an old sleeping bag rolled
with childhood
Frogpond vol. XV: no. 2 Fall-Winter 1992
27 Monday Jun 2022
Posted haiku, Modern Haiku, senryu
inTags
haiku, little poems, Modern Haiku, poetry, Published Poems, senryu
K-Mart toy section:
a child watches another
cry
Modern Haiku vol.XXIII, no. 1 Winter-Spring, 1992
26 Sunday Jun 2022
Posted haiku, Modern Haiku, Published Poems, senryu
infar end of town,
wide u-turn
the hot rod
cicada whining –
she’s already talking
about Christmas
back from vacation…
fiddling and fiddling with
the combination
minimal order-
the waiter looks out
the window
Modern Haiku vol. XXVII, no. 1 Winter-Spring, 1996
25 Saturday Jun 2022
Posted haiku, Modern Haiku, plants, Published Poems
inTags
chicory, haiku, little poems, Modern Haiku, nature, poetry, Published Poems
deep overcast-
chicory blue
out of concrete rubble
Modern Haiku vol. XXII, no. 3 Fall 1991
25 Saturday Jun 2022
Posted haiku, Modern Haiku, Published Poems, senryu
inTags
haiku, little poems, Modern Haiku, poetry, Published Poems, senryu
morning zazen:
marriage counseling
ourselves
daybreak frost
the sound of leaves falling
through leaves
Modern Haiku vol. XXIII , no.2 Summer 1992
24 Friday Jun 2022
Posted haiku, Modern Haiku, Published Poems, senryu
inTags
haiku, little poems, Modern Haiku, poetry, Published Poems, senryu
under the manhole
the night gives
a gurgle
goldenrod gall
quivers-
blowing snow
Modern Haiku vol. 22 , no. 2 Summer 1991
23 Thursday Jun 2022
Posted haiku, Modern Haiku, Published Poems, senryu
inTags
haiku, little poems, Modern Haiku, poetry, Published Poems, senryu
the old canoe
the only piece of roof
left on the shed
end to end
three Ramblers take part
in the overgrown field
everyday she waits
at the bus stop;
just to wait
the summer it rained
all summer…
dwarf sunflowers without faces
cleaning the poop out…
his little Superman
underpants
Modern Haiku vol. XXIV, no.1 Winter-Spring, 1993
22 Wednesday Jun 2022
Posted A Work of Love, Chapbooks, Published Poems, tanka
inA Work of Love (1997) Tanka
from Tiny Poems Press ( out of print)
*
*
*
midnight again
the furnace cycles off
and no wind-
for a while the quiet
becomes a longing
*
*
*
between chores
I study my hands
as if they might hold
something
I should know
*
*
*
tiny bluets
all around me
and over there
a couple,
very much in love
*
*
*
I can’t help my desire
glancing over
to her terminal
after little bits of decent
time have passed
*
*
*
by spontaneous consent
our subtle flirting
has played itself out–
our friendship will be
all the better for this
*
*
*
she’s not here
to see it
but after breaking the stick
I perfectly fit the broken ends
back together again
*
*
*
as if one
were not enough
I daydream pleasantly
of several women
I know
*
*
*
her look guarded
as she tells me
she may be late–
what great news this is,
she still will come
*
*
*
so intent with feeling
that her warm greeting
to someone just beyond me
gave me a moment so sure
she was greeting me
*
*
*
seeing her by chance
I once had a dream about her
years ago–
over time it has taken on
a substance of its own
*
*
*
what a surprise
she wants to take a photo
of us together–
I keep thinking
about it
*
*
*
Queen Anne’s Lace and
Black Eyed Susans
by the thousands along the road
and to think
you married me
*
*
*
as we gaze across the fence
my wife asks what I think
about a cow’s life,
honestly it looks quite okay
except for the flies
*
*
*
far from home
in the car
my wife mentions in passing
the name of someone
we don’t see anymore
*
*
*
in the company of friends
our marriage takes on
an air of comfort
as we all attend to things
other than ourselves
*
*
*
after supporting
their divorce plans
I write them a Valentine;
suggest they reconsider
it all again
*
*
*
beyond this life
that one old friend
I bump into over and over
promising that we’ll get together
again, someday
*
*
*
deep in the night
letting the phone ring
and ring…
then for a long time
wondering who?
*
*
*
when I think back
six years ago
when my mother had the stroke
I can’t remember who
I was back then
*
*
*
under a tree
we talk of mother’s passage
from this life–
inchworms suspended
all around us
*
*
*
I had it all
figured out,
this little wisdom of mine,
then in the night
the rain so hard
*
*
*
who knows what she thinks
or desires
yet the rain this Saturday
steady, as my wife reads
I watch her carefully
*
*
*
these days housebound
if only we could agree
to keep our words
silently
to ourselves
*
*
*
wanting my old life
when I wanted
my present life
stirring the soup she made
as a cold rain falls outside
*
*
*
some days seem
altogether too much
but then
so welcome it becomes
the night
*
*
*
after a rough day
she props her head in hand
a few inches from my face
and asks intently:
“do you really like me?”
*
*
*
the house quiet
and cold
this early morning alone
saddened to know how much
I desired just this
*
*
*
the envelope to me
sealed carefully with tape
on every seam
when opened, reveals
absolutely nothing
*
*
*
tolerably melancholy
to sit here while the kids play
and be lost in myself–
on a path nearby
she walks in the sun
*
*
*
for over a decade
we’ve talked–
still you want our talk
as much as I want
the silences between
*
*
*
nothing special
about deja-vu,
feeling down–
once long ago I felt
young and free
*
*
*
even though
we’re always together
my wife asks if
I’ve tried
the new pizza place
*
*
*
I look over
the three sleeping bodies
beside me–
to think a whole decade
I felt all alone
*
*
*
instinctively
for old times’ sake
I reach out, half awake,
to give your breast
a quick little squeeze
*
*
*
this rainy fall Sunday
I write poems and watch
steam rise from my tea–
as she passes she rips off
a little piece of sandpaper for me
*
*
*
my youth spent
gathering strength and solace
of friends near and far–
these short years later
losing them one by one
*
*
*
the cold walk,
silence
between us,
the creek running
under ice
*
*
*
every few bounces
the robin pauses on the lawn
to look and listen
as if that were all
there was to do
*
*
*
I have much to do
it is obvious–
what I will do is exactly
what she wants,
her little two year old heart
*
*
*
the tentative start-up
of talk…
to a new friend?
begins the old doubt
of just who I am, again
*
*
22 Wednesday Jun 2022
Posted haiku, Modern Haiku, Published Poems
inTags
haiku, little poems, Modern Haiku, nature, poetry, Published Poems
the formal garden-
a cabbage butterfly’s
whimsy
Modern Haiku vol. XXIV, no..2 Summer, 1993