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Friday, August 24, 2012

A Trembling Green Leaf

A trembling green leaf
Against the railing's stillness.
A car rushes past.
Parallel phone wires;
Perpendicular porch slats--
A world of straight lines.
 Mourning dove hooting
Softly through the soft morning
Vies with distant plane.
Like frozen spiders,
Clenched fists, or tiny white blooms:
Queen Anne's Lace magic
Brown leaves are falling;
One by one they make no fuss.
Soon, the avalanche.
How soft the green woods
As it melts into darkness
Beyond the sun's rays.

I stop for a pee;
White tail flashes out of sight;
Considerate deer.
Under the tall trees
A brief moment of coolness;
Then, the sunny road.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Painting What They See


Window reflection--
White, ghostlike, ephemeral;
Outside, green leaves shine.


A floating insect
Rises briefly in the sun,
Then leaves the spotlight.

Bark on my front lawn
Lights up in the morning sun;
Instantly alive.


At edge of the woods
Two figures sit silently
Painting what they see.


Silence envelopes--
A mottled sunlit blanket
On the shadowed road.

Other side of fence
A pink flower is growing.
It's just out of sight.

A baby pine tree
Grows from trunk of its mother--
Eternal birthing.

Just a splash of sun
Makes the translucent leaves glow
And dapples the woods.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

The World's Her Haiku

Two months have passed in the twinkling of an eye that lasts forever. Such is the nature of creative time. Such is the nature of kid time. And I am back on my familiarly strange journey on Yerry Hill Road. What a pleasure. 

Sun splashing on lawn
Glowing green through tree leaves;
Adventure resumes.
Did I ever leave
Just ten weeks ago?
When did I return?
Watching the traffic,
Blue hickory lines the road
Marking summer's end.
Tight clenched little fists,
Queen Anne's Lace ready to burst
Into white brilliance.
Shadowed curving road
Twists back into memory;
Have only I changed?


Cool voice of the woods
Breathes softly across my face
Its pungent secrets.

A child's soft chatter,
Walking with mom by the road.
The world's her haiku.
Field of goldenrod
Nodding gently to the sun
Returns its favor.