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

Thoughts that were not made

 

 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 silent currents

No wind in his sail

 Rich do what they want

Then the achingly sad part

Poor do what they must

Still wet 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

Nice 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 

 See their hollow eyes

Who is want will seek for some

Hunger breeds the thieves 

 When the data thinks

The union of opposites

Leaves one dimension

 What is it of grass

That reaches into our hearts

Cool blades of calm

our new intellect 

choices but few alternatives

a spare amplitude

Summer paseo

Cicadas sing in the gloam

Neighbors on the porch

 When you need a friend

To bring gladness and respite

Call one with four legs

 Summer afternoon

Just one rule for kids at play

Be home by supper

 How sweet September

The last breath of the summer 

Still green and mellow

Appreciation

 My dog's chin rests on my lap

He thanks more than I

 The twilight holds fast

To the last reserves of day

As night advances

What now hereafter 

What will I write when I'm gone

Not of things to come

 The promise of fall

All that is of seasons born

Eventual green

When I consider

How do I know what I know

By reason of what

 from its many buds

i was expecting more fruit

than the year would yield

Made by caring hands

With sinew, reeds, and willow

Baby's cradle board 

 He has beads to sell

Sitting on a curb - pale-eyed

He pleads “por favor”

 When I was a youth

Willing to starve for a rhyme

Craving little else

 She is a prism

Through which the white light of day

Bends into colors

Bare-limbed oaks of fall

 Stronger from what they have lost

Nourishing themselves

Cones are almost ripe

As calls imbue the morning

Pinion jays rejoice

 We have primal choice

A scropulous criminal

Or woman of grace

 Why It Is Fall

Blooms release their seeds

Ponderosas quit their cones

All things back to earth

 this bare lifeless tree

a shadow of its shadow

leans but does not fall

 when it is winter

the seeds wait under the cold

but do not forget

first to the peanut

a parsimonious crow

departs with its prize

 while in the washer

my clothes get so excited

they turn inside out

from the essence

the eternal feminine

lures to fruition

 the fox is startled

its face stained with rabbit blood

it crouches - then darts

in a cadent gait

baggy suit - green fedora

he whistles Blue Moon

 A charming blossom

Belies her struggle beneath

Potted and root-bound

 scrupulous spider

waits on its gossamer net

a gnat flies headlong

Wherefor, I surmise

There are no secrets in art

It's meant be known

whatever the point

 waste no time in its proving

time will forget it

The random bubble

Floating in perfect tension

Bursting with colors

 Humiliation

Shares the same space as triumph

Lonely places both

 No guise or design

Explains the storm’s confusion

The night is fractured

 

the shrinking river

groans under its cold lading

helplessly it calves

 It rises for air

(a sudden splash of wonder)

Spouting sea skyward

spinning seeds of ash

the twilight shroud of summer

 green lanterns floating

 A turbulent ride

Aboard the covidcoaster

Not thrilled - but consumed

 At Ketchikan Creek

The salmon will soon swim home

Odyssey of life

A thin golden crease

Where the clouds allow the sun

The gray sea afire

 My fashion standards

To wear no tie - tuck no shirt

To not be the worst 

 My purple-veined babe

Peach-fleshed and staring at me

Corn silk for your hair 

 Momentary lapse

Two monsters have locked their horns

The stink of skid marks 

 the peach - now full - drops

an avid squirrel finds it

eats all but the pit

All dressed in colors

 July comes like a maiden

Tumid and fruitful

When it all depends

On weight of a circumstance

Why bother with fear

 Is it possible 

True interconnectedness 

Indivisible?

Summer’s endowments

Shirtless lads and lightning flies

 Corn and carnivals

I have reached my time

 When questions turn to wonder

Where sense means marvel

 A small piebald dog

Who has never seen itself

Thinks nothing of pride

There should be more days

In which nothing is required

Days of happy chance

 one sudden moment

glows in the measureless span

a star in itself

 colors are no accident

with a clear purpose for each

prismatic wonder

 how withered the lives

that have found nothing to share

how sole and arid 

 A thunderous sky

Birds seek shelter in the pines

The forest trembles

 Will life assemble

To a predestined center

Where it all makes sense

 as the day retires

the last candles are blown out

thin smoke from their wicks

 A pale glimpse of dawn

I’ve known too much of the night

It’s too late to sleep

 Morning seatherny 

Their chorus fills the garden

My heart glad with them

 Rolling in my sleep

Waves of dreams wash over me

Restless day ahead 

 These long green days

Times of common paradise

When summer repays

 When they had little

But their love and innocence 

When they were once rich

 Crow to another

Have you found something to eat?

Enough to partake?

I-40 at dusk

Headed west outside Flagstaff

Peaks against pale skies

They all make good sense 

The arguments and reasons

Yet, of course, unless

 They are no less wed

Two hundred seasons have passed

Love still binds their lives

 Uninvited guest

While I was hiking in peace

A bug up my nose!

 On a southbound train

Shantytowns along the tracks

Dirty children wave

 Shindy of finches

Taking turns at the feeder

Blithely aflutter

 I will rest my head

On the pillow of summer

And enjoy bright dreams

Night-red hollyhock

Dusted with stars of pollen

Defies summer's glare