Quiet and charming

Through the meadow runs the brook

As she through his life

 My beautiful bloom

How soon you are summer’s fruit 

Full swollen and sweet

 Winter light at noon

With teacups and currant jam

The cat on the sill

There are better ways

 To keep the lions away

Than hiding in fear

 Each considered step

I am old for a reason

And see more slowly

 A treetop refrain

Chirp chirp it repeats chirp chirp

 The merry towhee

 Years accumulate 

What I have learned from the earth

Death and renewal

Loamy detritus

Fertile realm of flies and worms

Bountiful compost

 Something small happened

Something scarcely regarded 

But now I am changed

Some have never known

 To live without the sirens

The balm of quiet

The faint flaxen sky

Becomes a scarlet brocade

Morning is adorned

Headstone of rubble

Interred under hate’s disgrace

Unforgotten child

 No bole can sustain

No limb can adjoin the sky

When roots have rotted

 The light grows apace

The days of May are larger

Summer crops give thanks

 The elder couple

Dancing without the music

In the living room

 Old Gus with a beer

Just watchin’ the smoker smoke

This could take a while

 The pitch letter high

Then the batter’s flawless swing

He watches - then trots

Others far from me

Knew hate that I could ignore

Because I was not

The ancient tallies

Scribed with reeds on clay tablets

Primal histories

They do without then

 Animals have no stories

Other than what is

 You may have the clock

Said the peasant to the lord

But we have the time

 

Another winter

Despite the season's ordeal

The osprey nest lasts

 If you meet Buddha

In your sleep or on the road

Ask no directions

 When you pull it out

Leave it with the roots dangling

 Still clutching the earth 

 I found an old man

Who wore his years like a robe

Proud and handsomely

 

Suddenly it stopped

The patience of the horned toad

Hiding in plain sight

 Sweet sufficiency 

No desire or rebuttal

Equable content

Youth lost to hunger

 In war everyone is old

Pity does not feed

Dry musty pages

Yellow and curled by neglect

Poems longing for eyes

inside a good book

there are real people waiting

ready to meet you

 My most vivid life

No filter or distraction

Occurs while I sleep

 Careless wandering

Whatever way I travel

I’m close to somewhere

Father tends the roast

Mother’s potato salad

It smells like Sunday

 With nostrils aglow

My dog greets me at the door

She knows where I’ve been

 Bound by their nature

To food water and the sun

The birds are not free

 Before the firestorm

The crow is an oracle

Heed its prophecy

To make problems worse

There’s too much man in mankind

And not enough kind

 It happens seldom

But Monday was Square Root Day

5-5-25

though my flesh is worn

let it not impair my soul

tomorrow is new

The moment we met

 I would trade a tomorrow

For that day again

What welcome tender

From sullen soil of winter

The first sprouts of spring 

i resist game trails 

ways of life across terrain

domain of four legs

 In these find comfort

The dog's cold nose - kids at play

A bird in the breeze

 Dependable friends

Finches, robins, and sparrows

Return for summer

 An impatient crow

Reminds me with a complaint 

When will you feed me?

 Condemned to freedom

How long is this going to last

Can’t seem to shake it

Even in darkness

Everything was in hiding

She returns hungry

 Can the inchworm know

As it crawls across damp April

It will fly in June

 When the time offered

He told his story again

Save differently

An unbarred window

It reaches into the room

The night’s contrivance 

The damp potioned loins

Deeper than any desire

The elixir calls

 In fields of wild flowers

The lovers will have no markers

Shrouded in good earth

 alone among them

does he dare pursue a phrase

or humbly listen

These old dusty shoes

Been dancin' in the backyard

To the fife and drums

 To The Child

Something in me knows

That every breath you make

Is also my breath

 His doubt blocked the sun

A leaden cloud of silence

Impenetrable

Maori Warrior

Generations of tattoos

The sea in his hair

Below glaucous clouds

In the saddle of the hills

A slice of fair sky

We make so much noise

It’s nearly impossible 

To hear dragonflies

 Something in the soil

In the sweat - the river’s smell

That makes for the blues

 Made of lifeless stone

There is sorrow in this wall

Bound by fear’s mortar

 If there is no sin

What reason for redemption

Except for the blues

 The roadless prairie 

Without a thought of compass

Hand in hand we’ll go

 When I am away

That world becomes resplendent

I see with new eyes

 Could I be a bird

I would not peck or scavenge

I would soar and sweep

Sweet capricious spring

Surprise me at your pleasure 

Blythe effervescence 

 a familiar tale

but he doesn't know the end

shall he turn the page?

what comes of people

a spontaneous order

without injunction

sublime confusion

the moment after a dream

neither here nor there

in green unfurling 

a fern lives next to the pond

graceful frondescence

on the passing of one beloved

 loyal and loving

she will forever mean friend

our hearts howl with blue

 the moment he knew

that his heart would rhyme with hers

no verse could compare

Her ears are eager

 She seems to know what I think

Her tail says it all 

 It will go away

When it has finished its work

The moral of pain

Hoping for peaches

There are rumors in the bloom

Spotless spring morning

First greeting of spring

Most completely indigo

The glad hyacinth 

 Most of what I’ve known 

Wasn’t thinking after all

Tuition of whims

 

 

 Powered by the reef

The wave gathers its body

Then destroys itself

There is still much left

Of stories hardly begun

And of love unspent

the oppressors know 

the power of ignorance

make america dim

 The orange tree trembles

The temptation of fragrance

A feast for the bees

 To reckon of me

I will share stories with you

Come sit by my side

 The miles and the time

Form stories ever changing

The same neverless

 He has been unmoored

Carried by secret currents

No wind in his sail

 Rich do what they want

Then the achingly sad part

Poor do what they must

Still damp from the night

The poppies unfold slowly

Sunny reverence

 This contagious day

I am infected with spring

A plague of beauty

 Starlings doves and quail

Set asunder for cover

When the hawk soars by

 Beyond the heartache

He lives alone by the sea

Tides for company

 I must leave this road

And ramble the timbered hills

Where whippoorwills call

Quail drop from their roost

 The hummingbird resumes its bliss

All morning could be

 Dappled in summer

Adaptable ptarmigan 

Snow pure in winter

           Rule of the rulers

Entertain them with awful

Thinking optional

 Impetuous spring

Unfurls a brilliant tribute

Winter rewarded

 a lad of talent

bearing with such cleverness 

the fair crown of youth

 Then tulips up reach

Goblets of lustrous wonder

Filling with sunlight

The fields are trampled

Handbills scatter in the wind

 After the circus 

 when all is springtime 

blessed ribbons from the sky

wonderful puddles

Tireless artisans 

 Bees expect no gratitude 

Their work is their thanks

Heavens in a breath

The muchness of the moment

Oceans in a drop

 don't be complainin'

if you don't like potatoes

don't dig in my yard

 Dry desperation

The roots are the last to die

And first to repay

 The faithful black dog

Spends the morning on the porch 

Waiting for the truck 

Morning with a  breeze

Sun shinin’ in the back door

The cat’s out to hunt

 Alfred E Neuman

Distilled a sea of twaddle

To “What, me worry?”

 Forgotten letters

Brittle but unabated

Wait in the attic

The last time I checked 

I'm still lookin' like myself

Spare consolation

 All are made of one

The greatest common factor

No life is trifling

Your laws and libel

 Who do you think you’re fooling 

Reckonings will come 

Like Ouroboros 

 Absurdity of vengeance 

Will consume itself

The swollen orange buds 

What sound unloosed when they burst?

Only the bees know

 Breaking the quiet 

A buck through the underbrush

His nostrils steaming

 have the roots lost hope?

when the tortoise emerges 

will it know the world?

Patiently crocheted 

A tablecloth stained with love

By generations 

 This morning feels fine

Peaceful as a sleeping dog

Soaking in sunlight

 The widow entreats

Come under my veil with me

Know how cold my heart

Sacrificial fruit

Briefly ripened  - soon withered

Will render the seeds

 A stirring surmise

Made dim in the daylight

Burning while I sleep

By intuition 

Nature is truth - as it is

Gods in the smallest

 Lyrics in water

Composed by what lies beneath

The hindered flow sings

 One who lives with poise

Whose lot flows with the current

Loos’d of all desire

There shall be no thrones

No nobles or attendants 

Bread for everyone

Ponder this mankind 

 What if hope is a woman

Would that explain it

 The increase of night 

A cold carriage approaches

Its footman beckons

 The length of my life 

Is not as important as

The length of my health 

True without a proof

 There are stars we’ll never see

Heavens past heavens

 Before in darkness

Only the sun and a fire 

Could foretell shadows

The swirling patterns

A sable cloud of starlings

Random or given?

 Vainly deluded

Humanity’s whole extent

Is barely a blink 

is this our someday?

 to be plodding sequiturs?

shadows that follow?

 An indigo night

Moonless waves fall gracefully

Edged with gauzy foam

 Trapped in the chapel

Thrashing against the stained glass 

A desperate dove

 When we were savage

Perfectly unenlightened

Before there was why

In the pathless woods 

The ravenous elk bugles

"Come for me!" he calls

 A barnacled hull 

I trim my sheets to the squall

Wild gusts of my life!

Let’s go cross country

Until we come to the cliffs

Where the condors soar

 It’s too late to die 

(where is my generation)

Before I get old

 If I had my way

After all is said and done 

I’d leave ‘em laughing

 honorable lives

that they may serve as water

to quench and quicken 

 While innocence hopes

Ambition forgives cruelty

Somewhere there is war

 The man to the boy

What was the best thing today?

Right now is, Father

panoply of clouds

a mystic combination

of water and air

 i offer this thread

a frayed end of silken thoughts

pull and i'm unstitched

 Billboards are blaring

With faces of the lawyers 

Land of grievances

 

When it all had worth

They expected the rag man

His bundles in tow

 The old county road

A dog chased the rusty truck

Both faded with dust

 The First

They followed the tracks

Mammoths on the horizon

To un-peopled lands

 When you have questions 

But don’t need to have answers

Come see about me

 Singin' in the car

Don’t care what time I get there

I love this next song

 A gray brittle twig

Depleted - almost hopeless

Too far from the roots

The message she wrote

Has never faded away

What's done is not done

Without a good-bye

 She got off near Santa Fe

Dissolved into dawn

A faint morning moon

She wrote something on his palm

And pressed it to hers

 When he asked her name

She placed her hand on his lips

Listen for the moon

 The train turned a bend

Her head fell to his shoulder

They dreamed without sleep

 They talked in darkness

Without ending a story

Or starting the next

 As the night rolled on

She said that love and passion 

Do not need to rhyme

 She told of the South

Of hands bleeding from the fields

Of faith and aching

 Her dark eyes spoke out

A daring invitation

You can come closer

 Though they'd never met

Her look said that she knew him

Before we they born

 When he noticed her 

 She was immersed in the land

Her eyes rimmed with tears

This haiku and the twelve that follow comprise an accidental story of sorts.

He lost his ticket

Not sure where the train headed

Just feeling the ride

 Ironically

It's hard to spot a leopard

Or even see one

 My Dad used to say

I feel more like I do now

Than a while ago

 2025

This is how the year begins

With doubt and a sigh

 Though still and pallid

Winter's no infirmity

Spring will blush again

I can remember

(this happened before i died)

The slow forgetting

 With sun they start work

There’s no finer certainty

The bees of July

When he is missing

What matters and gives him peace

Someplace warm to sleep

 Too long without rain

The desert lives on remains

Nothing  dares to breathe

The recondite cat

Being charming but aloof

Comes comfortably

 My father taught me

Of responsibility

My mother - to fly

 Make evergreen wreaths

Adorn them with love and cheer

Decorate this day!

 Children everywhere

Put your excitement abed

Dream of tomorrow

 I am suns and moons

The seasons each to other

Cylces in circuits

The favorite trail

Is now longer and steeper

My bootsoles wear thin

 Surf assaults the shore

A lighthouse burns through the fog

Helmsmen sail on faith

why not consider?

content instead of happy?

which a better peace?

 My faith comes to this

I will tend to my garden

And it will tend me

 A dog to itself

Making humans feel better

Is tail-heavy work

Devout and time-worn

The oak tree preaches wisdom 

Doves stop to worship

 

 Pausing to relax

On the enduring passage

Water forms a pond

 I’m a scavenger

Searching through thoughts left behind

Gathering potsherds

 Dactylonomy

Certainly comes in handy

When writing haiku

 The river's water

Is anonymous again

As it joins the sea

 Privilege  of dogs

To sleep wherever they want

I am envious

 She can barely breathe

The tears tremble down her face

This is how love costs

 i accept this now

to sit quietly alone

and hear myself breathe

 Freedom for women

Suppressed throughout the ages

By the church and state 

 He was up all night

Not believing in the dawn

While fear fed on him

yielding but steadfast 

a tree is a trusted friend

without doubt or guile

 These tracks are southbound

They run to Mississippi

Where blues plays all night

To my excitement

Erumpent gladiolas

Send up their first spears

 What time is it now?

A question once never asked

Before there was next

 Appreciate life

Even pond scum has purpose

There is blue in green

 When stories dissolve

When there's no truth or fiction

What will bind us then 

 Invisible wall

Without a door or window

Can words penetrate?

 Like roots in a tree

There is more of you and I 

Than what can be seen

This our family

Of humor, talent, and grace

 Self-emptying love

Kindness for others

May this be our thanksgiving

Nothing more or less

Neglected  bouquet

Rose petals fall from the vase

Sere but still fragrant

 Careful as you step

There is more than one reason

That they’re called flip flops

 Shoulder their worries

They are young and will repay

It is worth the weight

 A point of order

Who said this guy named Robert

Gets to make the rules?

 Can they remember?

Entwined - tumid and gleaming

The fierce smell of love? 

 

With no up or down

We all live on island earth

Afloat together

 Of someone's nature

That which speaks eloquently

Where they find beauty

 To sleep - I must sleep

These dreams derange the darkness

If I could just sleep 

 When I am hiking

I feel closer to the earth

Peaceful humility

 Let us be advised

If you can’t be wise - be kind

Others will give thanks

 With no place in mind

Daydreaming amid the pines

Wondering nothing

In the remainder

Let me ramble like the wolf

Following a scent

 Which is more dreadful

Fear of something or nothing

The known or unknown

 Elixir of thanks

Even offered for the least 

Is balm for the heart

 It pleases my soul

To put my hand on your back

And know you’re near me

Sometimes in the wild

I enjoy hearing one thing

Faintly my footsteps

 There’s more to be found

Elder folk should still explore

Always being born

 Foretelling the storm

The wind's sure sililoquy

Speaks where no one hears

 An old dusty dog

As dependable as tides 

Waits for his next meal 

It must be dauntless

When art becomes civilized

It turns to culture

Woman of color

Prices, immigrants, and wars

They fall for the fraud

 The grace of the whale

Northbound from Baja's warm gulf

A calf by her side

 If we are so great

Why can’t the popular vote

Elect the POTUS?

They know of water

 And the approach of winter

Plants have agency

Walk in the woodlands

There are tidings in the trees

Messages of sap

The burden of fear

 Worry feels better than naught

When faced with unknown 

 The will-o-the-wisp

Rises in gold - sets in blood

Shroud of ghostly light

 He wandered away

As though he was attracted

To some dark allure

 Faint calliope

There's a trail of dust out west 

The circus draws near

A dim unswept room

Moths raise their dusty flutter

Webs wait in corners

Grateful ofrenda

A constellation of heirs

Glows with devotion

Play mariachis!

Cry the song of love’s lament

 What a joyful pain

an eager patron

the wasp is fascinated

insatiable

A cheerful drifter

Spins a hurdy gurdy tune

Children twirl with glee

There is a fable 

The raven who ate the sun

Calls but cannot sing

 Cold fog on the lake

The ospreys have quit their nest

Geese are on the wing

 When I am joyful

And quiet and satisfied 

I stop making sense

 The storyteller

Waits in her candle-lit tent

Your life for a dime

 Ghosts of volcanoes

Haunt Coconino's plateau

Does lava still lurk?

 When written at last

My story will fill the page

No room for margins

 Autumn is paisley 

Layers of twisting patterns

Colors intertwined 

 The moon longs for light 

Like a suitor suspended

Fain to glow again

 What sore secret broods

What revenant visits her

That she wakes weeping

 Once in the springtime

The remontant dianthus

Gives again in fall

 my autumnal friends

changing lives - stories falling

expecting winter

Clement October

 A good day for a tootle

With nothing in mind

 Something beyond us

Where the compass will not point

Without reference

 reliably kind

when the days increase with warm

spring forgives winter

 Encouraged by the rain

The Ponderosas respire

A vanilla balm

 I am primitive

A glad and natural beast

More ape than angel

 We are taking more

Than the earth has to render

Nature's depletion

 In spite of ourselves

There’s fortune on the table 

We just have to choose

 Before he looked out

He knew the snow had fallen

First of the winter

 

Deprived of the sun

Leaves beautifully dying

Latent hues revealed

 Winter is sabbath 

Time for rest and reflection

Covenant renewed

 I would have few doubts

About what I think I know

Were it not for dreams

 Prints of beginning

Early thoughts of a young man

Letters to myself

 The charm of autumn

Never is a conclusion 

As bright and graceful

may there never be 

something lost for what you need

enough for enough

 Pulled weeds this morning

My fingers still smell like dirt

It’s been a good day

 O the refeshment!

A blue jay in the puddle

Flitter - flutter - splash!

 Neither when nor was

Every time that I wake up

It is still today

No delight compares

Surrounded by sensation

A dog in the woods

Listen carefully

Can you hear beyond the words?

The most is unsaid

 There's much to be gained

From an aimless meander

Each stride adventure

Just the hawk and I

Drifting in the equinox

Warming air lifts us 

 what his eyes revealed

never so secret again

love changed forever

 Fully propounded

The moon hangs like a question

A bright cloudless night

There should be a group

Where they share stories of loss 

Socks Without Partners

 Cleaned out the garage

Found letters from my young loves

Some still make me cry

 He would be a fool

To not know that he's a fool

Certainly likewise

 The way that you think

Bears more import than the what

But less than you feel

Suspended in dawn

 Ghost of a summer's flower

Gauzy perfection

 here's the gist of it

i've lived with me long enough

 to know i'll be fine

 Heavens to Betsy!

My mother used to exclaim

I still don't get it

 Donald and JD

Stay away from dogs and cats

They can smell a fraud

 In the dry lake bed

The elk assemble to graze

Before heading south