firefly haiku
trash cans
and that trickster moon
first firefly
lush existence bleak
in deep thickets,
you came alone
to clear your head,
wandered recklessly
instead, wound up
turned around,
disoriented,
seated now,
on steep ground,
nearly defeated in this
dense dark green doldrum,
where winter light
infiltrates only intermittent
flashes, more to distort
than clarify, flickers
like a strobe
spun in slow motion,
what the compass
calls north might as
well be south, southwest,
might as well be east,
in every possible
direction out
a gnarled branch
gobbed with leaf,
cut off stems
grab your pack,
poke your eye,
scrape your neck,
earth muck beneath
a slough to trudge,
mud clings like a lover’s
grudge, bootholds either
stuck in slosh or worse,
slipping off,
a dreary mist
engulfs each
breath.
but this is not your
first time to cry
a hopeless dirge.
soon you’ll have
miles between you
and this dreadful urge.
friend.
curse not this life.
wish not for death.
pause.
you are not lost.
the trail’s ahead.
drink water.
Rest.
Star
Shrimp boat
Ocean
And me:
Hanging
As if
Some Pendulum
Held us
Ensync
By unseen force
For now.
It’s not just for
summer,
the tall glass
perspiring, ice cubes
clinking
against the spoon,
a half moon
of lemon
stradding the rim.
It’s for spring
& fall
& winter too,
ice in the glass
like snow flurries
in December,
the sound of pouring
rhyming
with April showers,
& the tea leaves
swirling
like foliage
in October,
maple, walnut, oak.
Read them & weep.
The deep earthy flavor coats my tounge
As I solemnly stare out the window
Contemplating the mornings
Waiting to wake up
The heat warms me
From head to toe
My eyes open a little more
My head thinks another thought
As soon as it starts
It ends
I think of my health and this high
Then I rinse out my mug and brew another cup
You’ve always liked guys better than girls
Drawn to more than just the crooked smiles
and dirty feet
There was something comforting about being a boys best friend
something sweet
you knew he meant it
and when that friendship bloomed
and he kissed you under a july moon
You knew he meant it
But one thing always leads to another
And when he was screaming at you
Saying all the things you wish men wouldn’t even think
You
Knew
He
Meant
It
The boys club is thick
And when sides are picked and you’re left alone
The girls come around and pick up the pieces
Brought together by heart break
They wipe your tears and tell you it will be okay
And in that moment
You knew they meant it
On the vacant road, the eastern sky on fire,
I listen out the window to the robins and warblers.
To the left, a bruised orange moon
hangs over my shoulder,
clinging to what’s left of the night.
I turn right, point toward the sun,
clear my throat.
