autumn falls with a
thud
it is barely September
darkness amputates the day
at six o'clock
leaving me to pluck weeds
in cruel blindness
this season threatens:
cold—rain—relentless
dark evenings
stretch into my imagination
taunting me with terror
as they trespass the border of my afternoon
This poem appeared in Facets of the Poet, 2001,
and was originally published in Kibbutz Trends, an
Israeli journal
Haiku
peacocks
peacocks on my way
to work, morning opens wide
like their tail feathers
white—on—white
dentist’s
waiting room
in hallucination white
listening to the drill
storm
with a snake’s
forked tongue
lightning announces the rain
chalk white on charcoal
light
intimacy is
the illumination of
ourselves together
voice
conversation
suns
the tight—wrapped
rose unfurling
your voice warms my night
hibiscus
first hibiscus
yawns
waking up from winter sleep
sticking out its tongue
introspection
windows facing
in
like facets of a diamond
every one is flawed
Free Verse
Desert Rain
my whole life spent learning to
fall
the moment of descent approaches
still I shudder
others say it's beautiful
exciting
on the way down
but to touch the earth means to shatter
and I am afraid.
I am pushed
wind gusts at my tiny jelly self
shakes my dream of gray
I notice colors
never there before
free-fall is gentle and slow
below the wind stream
ruddy browns poke skyward to greet me
green and yellow-green await me on the ground
blotches of vibrant color swim
with energy far beyond gray
their breeze combs the grass.
I land in a color-cup
with other pellets of water
and I do not shatter or splatter:
I am re-embraced
into the common pool
whose memory was almost washed away
in the rain
Note: This poem appeared in Facets of the Poet by
Leslie Cohen and was originally published in
Determinations Two (published by Outrigger Publishers,
Ltd., Hamilton, New Zealand, in 1997). It was translated into
Chinese and published side-by-side in Chinese and English in The Chinese Poetry International Quarterly, in May,
2002.
Free Verse
Amber Tears
Your photo on the wall
Still gazes black and white.
Like an insect set in amber,
Your smile is fixed in time.
You are still seventeen,
As you were thirty years ago.
Like an insect caught in amber,
You will always be seventeen.
I am in my fifties,
Wrinkles crisscross my face
Like footprints stuck in amber,
Tracking the years you’ve been gone.
This poem was originally
published in Voices, 2002 (an anthology).
