breathe haiku

quality of life
is available to you
within each slow breath.

And Shake

To truly see
the ones
you love,
mix one
part senses,
two parts
time.

In last night’s snow
every color,

but to see
we need the sunlight.

Such is love.

Linger
at the iris
for one moment longer,

see
how it changes
everything.

We scattered the ashes of my grandparents
on the other side of this bark twisted apple tree
(opposite you), and the white tarpaulin flapping

in the oak grove looks just like a person.
Across the valley, low mountains acquiesce
to the first bit of snow. In the mottled shade

a leaf vibrates like a helicopter blade
over the creak, creak of tight branches.
Black silhouettes of the pine giants

(the ones that survived)

stand arm to arm against the approaching
ridgeline. A bird chip, chip chips from left ear
to right to the beat of a second hand.

Your headstone, handmade
by an artist outlaw, is encircled
by carefully placed trinkets,

each one catching the sunlight just so,
as if always there is someone
paying attention.

Sometimes there are words,
other times there are none.

The space between
is where the matter is –

the slight movement of a body,
an eye looking away or toward,

a breeze moving past, the quiet play
of a child. Pay attention.

Everything exists
inside the silence.