haiku 3
green morning
dog snores bird song
what is time?
She, mountain born, had much to learn
When moving down to flat country,
And never planned to stay for long.
College campus was her main concern.
Yet, a blue eyed boy with dimpled chin
Happy smile, frat friends, snazzy car
Soon turned that head, drew her in,
Tossed her plans, left a door ajar.
He boasted of a road, a house, and fields.
Little place just right to get a start.
Never was her intent to marry any flat
Country man, there was someone else.
Then the Bluegrass bloomed. Never saw
Such as that. Who knew grass had more
Than green and root? Not our girl for sure.
What’s more seed pops out, follows bloom.
If you look across a blooming field, faintest
Hue of blue waves in the breeze, that’s how
Grass got its name. Seed brings a good return
If stripped and sold at the peak of time.
That’s what our hero did, one hot summer,
Bought a ring with his new income, found
The girl, pled his case with her. Voila, he won
Perhaps with ring, car, or his deep blue eyes?
Wearing his bluegrass ring and promises,
They laid plans to wed, fill the little house,
Live on the road, raise a crop, teach school.
College could wait, today her heart would rule.
She’d go back another year. For now mountain
Girl set her head on house, farm and field,
Looked to see a future in flat country, true
A bit of hill stayed to taunt her strongest will.
And Strange to tell, that was the one year
Such a bounty was ever seen. Confluence
Of nature just in time to woo and wed.
Fate’s sense of humor won, it’s clear.
There’s more of the story for another day,
But for now, this was their life’s first start
On Colville road, where neighbors might say
” Welcome to this path of homes and heart”.
There is just a sliver of pink.
It could be anything-
the ribbon from a ballet slipper
a wisp of a piggy’s tail
a flamingo’s knee
It could be anything at all-
what’s left of my patience
the gnawing ache at midnight
another appointment forgotten
Just a tiny touch of pink-
the highlights on a canvas
a newborn
a smoldering fire
What is the pink of your day?
The increment that makes you
wonder and gives you pause?
It could be anything.
taking inventory while scanning
the perimeter for suspicious characters
obeisance to vague authority
that conveniently wants what I want
gratifying gross desires
and slumbering in self-congratulation
beneath the bemused eye of God
watching the whimsy of creation
The chunk of moon
remaining this morning,
cracked by leafless oaks,
swallowing meteors
with her dusty oceans
pushes hopefully
against the morningstar.
Colt kicks, flashing hooves
& hope against
the young face of death,
circled by a black track.
You cast your nets wide
because
there are plenty of fish in the sea
(or so they say).
But so far,
all you’ve managed to catch were
seaweed
and
jellyfish.
Jolly Ole St. Nicholas
A “scarlet” suit for Santa,
and lots of white fur, but
someone had to spoil my fun.
Missy Johnson just looked
at my picture, and said, “You know
Santa isn’t real?” My reply was
simply, “You’re full of bird crap!”
That got us both into trouble.
I know he won’t stop to see her,
but will he be seeing me?
