Finally, Haiku

Fresh snow, overdue
invitation to climb up
into the forest.

Post-holing, we have
the wrong shoes.  We don’t mind.  Sun
between the branches.

Different stages
of freeze and thaw ~ waterfall,
raging stream, our feet.

Ice trail leads into
the belly of a mountain ~
if this cave could talk.

Pre-adolescents
notice the sacred, feel how
large the story is.

By the river that
could carry us away, our
hands in our pockets.

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Small Loves

Last night you taped your
wish to the window.  Today,
the first snow.

School conferences,
and you glow softly like the
byproduct of love.

The conversation
we have with our eyes – wordless,
you say everything.

No one said it would
be easy, though the things that
matter sometimes are.

A Straight Up No Reason Joy Kind of Day

Sure, we got
ice cream
and chased
in the grass,
sang songs
so loud
in public,
you covered
my mouth,
but really
what it be,
is the long-
dawned, drawn
out days of
summer spent
in the company
of those who
are smaller
and seeing
things from a
low down
kind of view
that makes
every type of
same old thing
that much more
laugh-making
on a sunshine,
school’s out,
nothing left
to do but
smile and see
the sunset
kind of day.

5th Grade Graduation

After the memorized
speeches and signed
certificates, but before
the cake, a rocket
is launched on the black
top. Photographs

from that day
will show all of the faces

looking up, eyes shielded
from the cloud swathed
sun in a sea of repurposed
holiday dresses
and birthday button
downs. They seek

that yellow arrow
which left their world

with a whistle and a crack
and pierced the sky
at the beginning
of a long and lazy
summer, but instead
what they see

is one hundred
unexpected blackbirds

in a fast and fleeting flock,
all moving toward
that inexplicable
blue horizon
at a truly
astonishing clip.