all of these things haiku

all of these things, they
come and they go.  nothing to
do but love, love, love.

Morning, Afternoon or Any Time

As many
times as
it has
been done,
never will
this body tire
of turning
toward the sun.

Saturday Peaches

I am dreaming of peaches
the color of sunset. They hang
from bowed branches

ripe with summer, and though
I bite into one right here, juice
running off my chin

into the August grass,
it is not the same as standing
in the orchard with you.

two at night haiku

halfway home, half moon,
the sky half light and oh
so many wholes.

permission unveils
silently beneath a
stadium of stars.

Walking Home

Between black soil and platinum
sky, the first August chill gathers
on our skin.  Earth ripe

with muck and spore
beneath our summer shoes, we trip
down the creek-less

wash where not one drop
has flowed all season.  But here,
there is a promise

inside this rain that dapples
our bare arms and saturates
each thirsty breath.  The promise,

it is life,
and despite
the slip and chill,

it is what we choose reverently
with each
muddied

step.

where there is attention, there is truth haiku

in my eyes, the slant
of white moon transforms
suddenly to sphere.

when the clutter moves out haiku

unexpected,
and tonight there is room
for everything.

You Mean the Henna Tattoo!

Look at the chicken
thing on my leg,
she says.

The chicken pox? I ask.
NO! she giggles,
The chicken thing!

What chicken thing?
You know, the chicken things…
that we all got last week!

Oh!  Such extraordinary laughter
derived from a tale
of ochre and feathers.

Tongues of Fire

Red licks adorn
the ivory pods
with the exotic name,

remnants
of last season’s harvest.
So much

has changed
since then –
while they waited

in a dark jar
on a back shelf
and now simmer

on low heat
to become something
delicious,

shared,
no longer
stored away.

We Are Human

The wind still blows
through the trees
when we do not listen

and the grass
it grows under our feet
as we walk

over this spinning earth
moving and always
moving,

each of us making
our own way toward
solid ground.