Posts for June 23, 2023


Fowl Paradise

Adolescent ducks 
scrounge for scraps, tussling
over half-eaten crusts that rain
from grubby hands like manna
from above, a never-ending feast.


haiku: the wind

haiku: the wind

i am so grateful
that I feel you in the wind.
but it’s not enough.

Registration photo of Shaun Turner for the LexPoMo 2023 Writing Challenge.

Reversing the Hermit Thing

After a haircut, I feel like a shorn lamb.
Air on the nape of my neck
and I’m trying to be positive again. 

I’m old enough now to have places I go
regular enough, people who know my face.

The clouds swing down and stay there
most of the day. The rain has driven
the birds from the oak. But it’s drying. 


Come Into

Driving home in the dark after an evening
watching the kids’ theatre camp play,
my son says he’s going to fall asleep.

“Just hold on. We’re almost home,”I say,
“I can’t carry you in anymore.”

“Yeah, it’s just part of growing up,” he replies.

“I remember pretending to be asleep,
so I could get carried to bed,” my daughter adds.

“Those were the days,” sighs my son.

I grip my steering wheel and nod to the night.



Building up a tolerance
Yet, losing it all the while

Appearing much has changed
like the depth shown from my smile

Takes approved authenticity
Takes more and more to release

To obtain bits of comfort 
To achieve the perceived peace 

Ah, yes.
Most failing fictional tests

Ah, yes.
Ascertain they’re like the rest

Ah, rest…
Speaking of, what the hell’s that?

Ah, rest…
Another fulfilling pour?

Ah, indeed…
I think I will have some more.


maybe I’ll just live with it

I think of your brown curls intertwined in my fingers

Your big smile right before our lips meet

The way you laugh at my stupid jokes

How you sing the song out of tune on purpose

And how when you hug me you sway back forth just a little bit

I crave being around you

Listening to you tell me about the most minuscule parts of your day

The way you don’t break eye contact

And how you talk with your hands

I’m not sure how I’ll ever get you out of my mind

And maybe I won’t,

Maybe I’ll smile when something reminds me of you

Maybe I’ll sing the song out of tune by myself

Maybe I’ll cry when I’m lying in bed with no one to talk to

Maybe I’ll learn how to deal with missing you

Maybe I’ll just live with it


Being An Introvert Is Annoying

Staying up late
To prep for a party
I’ll probably hate.

But that’s always my problem.
Being a fucking pessimist.

I created this.
I planned it,
Down to the last minor detail.

There’s hope somewhere that I can enjoy myself,
But I think I lost it.


Country roads

Since  I’ve  moved away from my hometown,
everytime I return it’s like
reliving flashes of life.
But just the darker times,
just the foreshadows,
memories link,
weaving through
my time


Playing God

I transplanted chrysanthemums today.
Gerbera. Gladiolus.
Potted, they sit in our sunroom,
waiting while we decide
where to plant them for good.
Outdoors, along the stone wall,
I pulled up ropes of grapeleaf
clinging to the ivy, gripping
a nearby redbud, and tossed
those tentacles to a waste can.
It’s a little like playing God,
I think, ordaining which plants
shall live and which shall die.
If I’m lucky, this lesson
will keep me humble.  


Sleep, Let Me Go

Sleep, let me go.

Stop seducing me

into your bed.


Sleep, let me go.

I want to be awake

for my life,

imperfect as it is.


Sleep, let me go.

It’s been a nice

love affair

but I want to return

to my life.

I’m not your Persephone.

Our season is over.


Sleep, let me go.

I want to create,

not hibernate.


Sleep, let me go.

I am tired

(not for you)

of being your zombie.


Sleep, let me go.

i want my mornings

and afternoons



Sleep, let me go.

Sleep, let me be.