Leave all of your should’s
and supposed to’s, and settle
into noticing.
Present Haiku
4
Monthly Archives: December 2014
Four Winter Haiku
Startling, how much light
morning snow balances on
one tiny tree twig.
Tracks of deer on the
front porch – so much happens when
we are not watching.
If only we could
make egos into snowballs
to throw at ourselves.
Let us love like your
fireplace, not mine – screw propane,
let’s burn some real wood.
Winter Solstice Live Radio Broadcast
Please join Liquid Light Press poets M.D. Friedman, Rachel Kellum, Lynda La Rocca & Erika Moss Gordon this Sunday, December 21, 2014 from 6:00 – 7:00 pm, on KFRC Radio’s Poetry Show (88.9 FM in Fort Collins, CO) or…
Stream live on the internet at http://www.krfcfm.org/programming/krfc-live-stream
Visit Liquid Light Press poets at: http://liquidlightpress.com/books.htm
Happy Holidays!
Books
Before you died,
you told me
that these shelves
would look better filled
with books. This little house
has since become
a home,
rooms overflowing
with the footprints
of my children
and the voices
of friends. Our lives,
a stacking
of sweet and tattered
imperfections,
resemble now
these beautiful
bursting shelves,
now dusty, and topped
with your alabaster urn,
silver in the moonlight.
Seedling
Sit in the rain
with your
upturned palms,
and know
that something
new
is already
growing.
Acquittal
Your badges
are not force fields,
they are instead
the light.
From way up in
your high stone towers,
you make us see
the darkest
night.
Longing Haiku
Alone with the moon
at midnight, lovers wade from
shadow to starlight.
Beckoning
Each inhalation
an invitation,
each exhale
a letting go.
In the absence
of sight,
the darkness
beckons.
Like the white
lotus, open
to the possibility
of your own sweet light.
A.M.
Twenty-nine thousand,
two hundred days
if we live
to be eighty.
How shall we
spend the
morning,
you and I?
