a part across from a godwit’s carbon footprint
September 2014
crescent moon
light crests over
a snail
crescent moon
another thumbnail sketch
of sad stories
crescent moon
separating facts
from fiction
moonlit lake —
the doppler effect
of black swans
from the dark
from the space it leaves
a tree begins
no man's land —
haiku mind-seeding
by moonlight
desert spring . . .
some words from my mouth
half-shut
second language
just one second after
a big bang
queueless the fine line here
on reflection
moonset's paucity
of words
graveyard shift —
the past in spectres picking
through haibones
under a cloud
a beekeeper checks
each peony
mid night
all the stars out there
mid way from the past
inland sea . . .
the sound of a siren
turns my head
the milky way
stretches out its wingspan
of indifference
midnight stroll
beyond the back-chatter
of the universe
scented night —
a moth enters the hush
between stars
iambic throb —
the slow black trochee
of life-blood
mist . . .
from tree to tree
an afterthought
death bed vigil . . .
his mind fingers through
beads of sweat
sun shower
a rain drop turns
into wine
with the birds
the words to voice
such silence
sharpening an end to end all war
a haiku
without trying to be
Japanese
theta waves
splash the plimsoll line
of my words
spring storm
my future slows down
for my shadow
first light
the fall from it
all around
a spring rain
agitates the clarity
of its pooling
footfall . . .
the dull thud
of waking
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