the truth of words
lies buried in
my darkest Africa
Haiku Notebook 2018
after vultures . . .
the unshadowed earth
lies sun-scorched
my heart beats
to an ancient drum —
djembe talk
in nightmares
dank watering holes
of my past
fecund night —
a paleolithic venus
by ink-blot
distant thunder —
the unfolding crescendo
of our waiting
sunset shimmer . . .
baobab trees
are paper dolls
the long shadow
of Mitochondrial Eve
coils in my dreams
mute autumn —
my daughter takes up home
two inches behind the eyes
paschal moon
i eat what i am
to become
haiku rubrics
red ochred hands
scale the wall
distant storm
a door creaks open
to absence
ebbing light—
a milk-heavy cow tastes
the last of it
sighs adrift
in the shadow shift
of a fontanelle
wordless tryst
the scent of crushed leaves
where we lay
unseen breeze
just as night rustles
into the earth
baby booming
songs of departure
thunder light
shining cuckoo in transparent absence
a tui
chimes descant to
its shadow
a twitter of insignificance from the cygnet
nothing's said hot
lest it be dreamed out
in nothing but words
a universe
wholly cosmetic
(who knows how?)
mealed-with-flesh
from man-mold made
man-mould mound
kigo and kire—
my summer haiku bleeds
its heredity
cave paintings
the provenance of
the hunting
executive privilege—
worth the expense
at half the price
Mysterium Coniunctionis . . .
first joyful mystery
the annunciation
open mouth
in flew Enza
right on cue
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