In dishes, love. In
tending to plant and broom, all
love. In your hands, love.
Monthly Archives: January 2015
Winter Flowers
Wooden pencils scratch
over Tuesday night
word problems
to Django Rienhardt’s
Gypsy guitar,
while outside,
the mountains
turn ripe pollen orange
like this mason jar
dripping with stargazer lilies,
long past open. This is
one of the illuminated
moments, when you notice
that everything matters,
that perhaps
you have landed
in the quiet center
of your own wild
and beautiful garden,
and the children,
half sprouted,
are rooted
and blooming
like flowers.
Reflection Haiku
Like the Cheshire moon,
so beautiful to smile when
reflecting such light.
Minnesota Creek
Up past Lily Lane,
winter tires sink deep
into January
mud, and the road
gets twisty
beneath the width
of a silver truck.
Fields tattooed
with the feet
of ruddy cattle
give way to high
country ranchland,
and we drive
over sparkling passes
and into the sky,
into the cold, clean air
like the wild geese,
honest and free,
living our lives
like this
on a Saturday,
flying toward sunlight
and into
the great blue.
The Meeting
Sure it is
taboo
to consume
another
human being,
but goodness
we certainly
tried.
City People
In the dark tube
of the trans-bay
underground,
black windows strobe
blank nothing
to the ear punching
screech of track
on metal. It has been
half a lifetime
since I breathed
with this city, and my eyes
linger long
on all the flashing
faces. I am startled
by the humanness
within these tattered
train cars,
and by the
unequivocal
force inside
the stranger’s smile,
like a private anthem
to all that is
beautiful.
By the Bay Haiku
In the dark morning
city, one million faces
turn to face the sun.