Lambent maple tree

Made stunning by autumn’s chill

Ready to send its rain

 I prefer quiet

Except wind - water - and birds 

And music of course

 

Summer's profusion

Clings faithfully to cold limbs

Flames in autumn sun

 O to be a duck!

I can already waddle

But to fly and plunge!

 If you would find me

Search in the garden's rich soil

Amid roots and worms

 As I sleep - I dig

Bones of shrouded days exhumed

Fossils of my life

The day's single star

The multitudes of  the night

All spread superbly

No matter the dreams

Mornings ought to be grateful

To be rewakened

freedom is a cloud

in a perpetual sky

sheer and shape-shifted

 In spite of ourselves

We are the spring and autumn

Swelling and yielding

 

Something knocked at dusk

He held the door and his breath

A cold waft of fate

 Rejoice garbage trucks!

That hoist our wretched excess

To make room for more

i wake to a dream 

the dark fragrance of her hair

encompasses me

 Morning comes later

I have passed my exquinox

Night grows knowingly

 i am october

laden with summer's rewards

my leaves burning bright

Dry as a gray leaf

He doesn't want to get up

It's getting colder

Sitting together

The last leaf fell on their bench

Sunday turned to snow

Before I was young

When I did not know of age

No past to forget

 The vain scythe of faith

Clears a path through reason's field

Leaving chaff behind

 It is mostly tail

A fox darts across the road

Jumps into the night

 That which matters best

Freely come by as the air

No price is enough

 

Nature's dimensions

Abroad its measurelss span

And smallest wonder

 Spring is a fair child

Splashing in April’s puddles

All wet and merry

 The fruits of summer

Fall and begin to ferment

Here's to autumn's wine!

 

Dark and patrician

Gaurdians of Red Mountain

Cloaked in cold stone

 Stung by an insect

A door slammed on my finger

Elsewise a good day

 See how they scurry

Abert squirrels are gratified

A feast of fresh cones!

 She whispered something

That caused me to close my eyes

And thank my fortune

 In the wheel of time

There must be revolutions

For there to be change

 Surrounded by storm

Slate sky - hills covered in hail

We were high and dry

October's plenty

The pinion jay remembers

Where it stored the seeds

Beyond what we say

You and I are miracles

Of unposed questions

As far as I know

 Freedom is not what I thought

It's when I don't think

Stopped in the shadows

Motionless - it stares at me

Its white tail twitches

 This fathomless blue

A vault vast and unblemished 

But for one crow

Of apprehension 

How do you know what you know

Apart from belief

 

The bloom's work complete

Gauzy thistle-down takes flight

As summer exhales

 Days fresh as flowers

That wake to bees in morning

Awash with nectar

My experience 

I've learned more than I was taught

Known more than I thought

 Follow the brown signs

They point to pleasing  places 

Otherwise passed by

 All that I’ve given

Is inconsiderable

Compared to my thanks

 My face is a map

Drawn with the slow quill of age

Can you follow it?

The dawn’s first gray light

Coaxes birds from their perches

And bids them to sing

Do not wait for when 

What is solid will dissolve

If can turn to was

Their faces painted

Songs of rain - drums of thunder

Dancing for the corn

Only hearts can know 

How improbable is love

Nor will years construe

 All adversity

Is considered a witch hunt

Now they've caught the witch!

 Brigantine of light!

An eastward cloud in full sail

Bound for lands away

 

In the sum of joy

However the multitudes

It takes just one seed

 Made for each other

The bloom and the butterfly

Summer's fine effect

 A flash of azure

The jay darts from limb to limb

Sips from the bird bath

 To live without why

To simply accept what is

Wisdom or waiver?

 Aphoristic dogs

With small vocabularies

But much truth to tell

 The growing shadows

Cast by autumn's nether sun

Longer than trees tall

 My dear spotless babe

I hold your head in my hand

Slumber without dreams

 Singularity

Was this infinitely small

Or is it so now?

 

The pygmy nuthatch

Hunts for ants in the pine tree

Chirps - I found some here!

 A few small issues

Cords - dogs that bark in the night

Crumbs in the butter

 He scattered his story

Its pages strewn at the shore

Claimed by rising tides

 The sunflowers bow

Under their beauty's own weight

And worship sunlight

 Hark the swollen sky!

Stacked with great mountains of rain

Mother of the storm

 A mother turkey

Her chicks too new for flight

Broods them under wing

 I have lent myself

To one miraculous book

The story undone

 Where crows roost for night

There is a song about that

Trees know the lyrics

El Cumpleanos de mi Amigo

A friend's truest words

Never written or spoken

Are told with his eyes

 Some folks get soaked

While others dance in the storm

Between the raindrops

 Like a sloop at dusk

With  its sails dropped on deck

He drifts un-anchored

 Fear can always wait

A panther that stalks the night

Rapt - swift - merciless

 Scrambling up a hill

I would like to have four legs

Just until the top

 Communion requires

A congregation of trees

And runnel's scripture

 High Sierra air

I can feel it in my blood

Fresh sweet and bracing

 At the sky's first call

I will open a window

To welcome the storm

 After dry July

The thunder said it was time

To anoint the earth

To hinder the hawk?

Starlings form a living cloud

A murmuration

 How distant the moon

From the tide that it allures

So too her lover

 The dark seas of sleep

Without a port or compass

No bearings matter

 Lighting the daylight

In a violent instant

Accounted by thunder

 

                                                                                  

Would that I might have

The patience of a spider

Suspended in trust

 Weather is our mood

But our personality

Must be the climate

 Like seasons of years

The moon depends on the sun

And hope on the young

 He's a musty work

Wedged between Poe and Whitman

Well-read and dog-eared

They won't disappoint

To show their disappointment

Perfection's sure price

 Slow - insidious

Mold inches up the damp wall

Quietly toxic

 When young and aweless

She moved with a daring grace

Dancing like a flame

 Sensibility

Reason is passion's servant

Love knows no measure

 Some light through the woods

I think it is a meadow

Where lupine finds sun

 What we hear of birds

Their calls warnings and frolics

Are sung not for us

 When my new time comes

Plant my ashes in the woods

With wildflower seeds

 The bird steals a web 

(The spider left to wonder)

To bind its new nest

Still damp from the night

 Her heart - like the palest rose

Is easily bruised

 The Museum Club

Trees hold up the roof

No drinking on the dance floor

 The walls tell of songs

 What distance have I?

To a country beyond the tides

Or just over there

 Where aspens quiver

Where the wind flows most freely 

This is my country

 A quesadilla

The secret begins and ends

With good tortillas

Prodigious blossom

The true purpose of yellow

Open and outward

Emily and Virginia

Their elegant worlds

Inherently unhindered

By canon or prose

The vagrant lingered

A vagabond in the night

With stories to sell

A stygian wind

Grief took everything green

His gray heart laid bare

 As the leaves of beech

The days will replace themselves

New on old branches

Friendship of virtue

Love for one you do not need

Complete in its own

Is there liberty

In a world without countries

And no immigrants

 My true gratitude

To need less than what I have

And have some to share

 Does a poem sing

When it is not read or said

Does it rhyme alone

Hot sodden delta

Cotton tall - air thick with sweat

Blues 'til tomorrow

A furious chase

The pursuit of proud desire

Will exhaust the soul

Circumspect horned toad

Now suddenly petrified

Waits for me to pass

 The hot winds of June

Devour the remains of spring

When will monsoons come?

 On my hands and knees

The dark soil under my nails

An earthworm disturbed 

 I love to wander

To avoid destination

A flaneur at heart

 Spend a day alone

[though it might not be written]

You'll find a poem

 This unfallen fruit

The ripened promise of youth

Seeded with new hope

 Where wild iris grows

Where no boot has ever trod

There a perfect peace

 We are meant to dance

Children know this simple mirth

 To twirl without care

 Envy knows no depth

A stone in a floorless sea

Sinking - unsated 

 The hawk and the owl

The blue of day and night's eclipse

Exchange the same sky

Spring gives a long sigh

Can summer be far away

With its high-hung sun

 When you cannot fly

I will bring food back to you

Your hunger will starve

Predator's sequence

To search - stalk - chase - grab - and kill

Then to digest life

 Embark at high tide

Trim your sail to a new draught

Horizons beckon

The bumblebee dives

This pool of scents and colors

Brims with spring spirits

 When you build a fence

That separates yours from theirs

What's kept in or out?

 Shadows sweep the trail

Specters carried on the wind

A murder of crows

 A moth lives with us

Clinging to the bedroom wall

For what does it wait?

 We're all in bubbles

Some quite smaller than others

What if they all burst?

 The pinion has bloomed

Fresh sprouts tipped with tender cones

Augur of new seeds

Are we palimpsest

O'erwritten by a new hand

Wan and hardly known

Mourning is love's cousin

Who will pay respects in course 

Through death or sunder

Burgeoning poem

Each petal itself a verse

Nature's hand is slow

 

This long-fallen tree

Driftwood in the tides of time

Burnished and stone-bound

By a fitful wind

A nest blown down from its perch

By fortune empty

It was prismatic

Resplendent and spectral

Made of all natures

 He took a rough road

Dilemmas at every turn

The moon was rising

But once in the spring

Bees will worship this altar

The sacred yucca

 A crimson chalice

Gracefully balanced on thorns

Lustrous symmetry

 The quick grey lizard

Push-ups on a sunny rock

Warmed - it scoots away

 Now to clarify

Some things are to be believed

But not understood

 without tears or balm

she waits for the pain to stop

bravely - tenderly

 What would this day be

Without the weightless light

Of auspicious spring

 will we be sorry

when we cannot see the stars

hooded by our lights

Laden trees of May 

Surprised by a sudden gust

Blossoms on the lawn

 With winter's work done

Tender leaves and limbs sunward

Spring's green gratitude

 She is unequal

Composed of contradiction

And amply awry

Measuring your life

You may as well count the stars

While they spin above 

The garden table

Well set with spring's bright banquet

Where eager bees dine

 Like a harnessed horse

He pulls his story behind

Down a rutted road

 Of self-confidence

Count more for intuition

Than calculation

 If you need to weep

Covering your face won't help

Cry up to the sky

 After all is said

Somewhere between doubt and hope

 Waits satisfaction

Rivers, tempests, seas 

Where might this water have been?

In tears of laughter?

 In time of the nones

Shall we together accept

This is what we have

 This little language

Says nothing of love's design

Or but beauty's cause

At the horizon

Before sunset you will see

The tip of my sail

 All of nature born

Are common and arisen

From a Mother's seed

 Yes, this place seems right

Where I choose to take some rest 

Come, sit here with me

Women in red robes

Bring water from the river

Life in the balance

 How far can you see?

Over forests, mountains, seas?

Or beyond yourself?

Today is liquid

Whithersoever it flows

Readily I float

 Quivering - breathless

Their love inexpressible

They lie heart to heart

 Fleeting fulfillment

You don’t know when it’s enough

Until it’s too much

 I will not know sin

Accede to heaven's promise

Or dread hell's portents

Got to get on down

To Clarksdale, Mississippi

Crossroads of the blues

Immeasurable 

Flowers ought be multitudes

 Vast fields or alone

I need to tell you 

About the shape that I'm in

Comfortably round

 I still have pieces

Of the places we have been

Safely in my heart

When spring first kissed me

Its lips pursed with honey-dew

Therefrom, sweet increase!

 May I not forget

The lesson of the seasons

Never born enough

April awakens

Tosses the sheet of winter

Rising with a yawn

Not truly bygone

But I wish I could recall

The things that I know

 Forsooth - said the bard

If you ask me no questions

I'll tell you no lies

Barely visible

Where the blue meets feeding air

The flame burns hottest

A bug's fleeting life

Just now made even shorter

Splat! On the windshield

Nothing I have heard

Prepared me for the lyrics

Of the warbler’s song

To A Mockingbird

You uncomely fowl

How boldly you fill the air

With songs of others

 

 In my heart of hearts

All that glisters is not gold

Neither here nor there

On Shakespeare's Birthday

 This haiku 

is made with well-known phrases from his plays.

 At the gate of day

The dog's nose is cold and wet

Eager for the field 

 Emily Dickinson

She visits briefly

As a honeybee at bloom

O'erspread with pollen

 Privilege of hawks

To sail superior skies

And see us reduced

 Dashing cardinal

A crimson blaze of glamor

Adorns the mesquite

 When entirely spring

The San Pedro courses north

Life-stream for migrants

 Reveries flicker

Like hummingbirds at blossoms

Then vanish forthwith

 A slave to beauty

I'm indentured to forests

Mastered by the trees

 Hear the quail's report

From the sheltering thicket

The eggs are moving!

The redoubt of faith

Firmly buttressed with grace

Besieged by questions

 I will go ahead

To light a fire in the dusk

So you can find me

 The outskirts of town

Cotton fields to the river

Summer bakes their backs

Dance to juke joint blues

Shake what your momma gave ya

Jump jive and boogie

 The first daffodils

Conducted by April sun

Raise their trumpet heads

 Carve from this something

An instant that might escape

However the day

Of the pathless seas

There's no sextant suitable

For this boundless cruise

 It's hard to allow

The universe is empty

But for some huge specks

 The choir of birds

Perched in these cathedral trees

Carols of April

 All my time is free

It is not to be purchased

Or properly earned

 Most of my problems

Look better on a good walk

Not solved, but smaller

 A proof of beauty

Fragility among thorns

Hedgehog cactus blooms

 All said, I have learned

It's less about the story

Than how it is told

 April 4, 1968

One hateful bullet

Clarion voice assaulted

Still, it reaches us

 Fox "News"

The pathetic truth

Credibility is lost

When it fails to lie

How tardy the life 

That counts the tramp of minutes

And dreads being late

 This the last haiku

From an exhausted writer

On April Fools Day!

Sagas of our guns

Written in blood of children

What right makes this right?

Of men and women

Two equal to the same one

Are themselves equal

No times left behind

They follow us like shadows

Even in the night

Remains of the past

Float like dust in the sunlight

Settling on dreams

 When we were youthful

Unbounded and without cares

The once time was now

 Mississippi night

They are camped outside of town

The kids are hungry

 It's hard to recall

When I discovered numbers

Or who thought I should

 How fragile this dream

Like dew on the spider’s web

Dissolved with the sun

 I've not known hunger

Like the hawk and honey bee

Or thirst like the seed

In the arroyo

Where the desert mallow grows

Gift of winter rains

 From the brittlebush

The evening song of a quail

Attending its nest

 The last of winter

His hair thin and trousers loose

He waits for the day

 I was taught somewhere

Faith bears more consequences

Than humble presence

 A bee's luxury

The liquor of orange blossoms

Spring's sweet indulgence

 victor or vanquished

those returning from a war

bring monsters with them

For a deep red rose

Is the cost of its beauty

To be discovered

 Of all animals

Only humans seek revenge

Others just survive

 The desert has its turn

To wear harlequin attire

And sway to spring's song

 

               

Today the poppies bloom

                                   Sun-faced gems of the desert

Brief but brilliant

 The first thing I knew

Before I learned all these words

Was my mother's love

 Able mockingbird

Reminds the morning to wake

In voluble songs

 Subnivean mouse

Supposing what April brings

Sleeps in its warm cell 

They wait equably

At sunlight's first touch they sing

Glory O' Glory!

 History's question

Is what we tell of the past

That which we desire?

 She lived in brackets

[a phrase inside a sentence]

Helpful but needless

 A penetrant sun

 Lightens tadpoles and algae

Where the catfish feed

 It returned today

With its protean carols

Spring's first mockingbird

Do not seek so far

Inquire of the nearest gnat

It will understand

Resplendent jewel

Made radiant by noon's light

Hovers at a bloom

 There is no evil

In how nature treats itself

But for humankind

 The cup of this month

O'erbrimming with vernal dew

And the orchard's balm

There is only this

In which every thing is born

Entire and boundless

 What remains of grief

Is perched on his anxious heart

Like a hungry crow