Haiku
cool fingertips
soft against my inner wrist
she measures my life
panicky eyes
cyanotic lips and hands
—wilted bouquet
heartaches and
headaches
is life worth the pain—
a child laughs
the entrance rug
gravel replaces snow
—first sign of spring
twinned gibbous
moons
brightest where they overlap
—double-paned window
basting the
turkey—
her breasts, her great vanity,
riddled with cancer
large buck caribou
grazing the tundra
— spinning windmill
second growth
saplings
pale poplars grown through
burnt out Model A
scintilla of sun
through silhouette pine needles
—chromatic halo
off the living
room
staircase to nowhere
since the hurricane
lakota sweat lodge
contact with the spirit world
—birch leaves gone yellow
late harvest
saved by a warm autumn
—lost to tornadoes
the last holdouts
honeybees in the clover
—canning corn relish
prose by the
brook—
a chipmunk freezes head-down
on the tree trunk
warm spell can’t
last—
eat on the harvester
nap in the pickup
sidewalk
construction
initials in new cement—
cry existence
atop the fence
post
a thermal coffee mug
—monarch butterfly
through the bus
window
my coffee mug sitting
on the bus stop bench
4th of July
Saturday, in the park
—Chicago tribute
the sound of oars
directionless in the fog
—thermos of cocoa
one says ‘you’re
crazy’
the other, ‘you’re a whore’
giggling as they pass
bright warm
sunshine
a hint of bite in the breeze
—September corn roast
