flying purple clouds

flying purple clouds

crossing my wide window

in a second and a half

south to north as though

late for an appointment

an anxiety i know well

grief shouldered

weighed by the death of a teenager

i’d teased and listened to and loved

remarking to myself his near approach

to the manhood he will now not know

and the depth of his love – and theirs

of him – of two generations of family

we will attend his celebration of life

but mourn those broad shoulders

had never borne the weight of children

of his own

without warmth

gossip over the back fence

was often merely meant to keep fellow

villagers informed so they, too,

might pray for neighbor’s health and joy

gossip on blunt email lacks

the softening effect of person to person

misses touch’s feeling we are all human

and comes across as callous bullying

crags to riches

cragged personalities

may soften raw edges

if met with suspended judgment

and allowed opportunity and time

to reveal tender core

mutual

“I love freckles,” said Grandma

as she consoled her bullied

‘spot-face’ grandson

“I love wrinkles.” He grinned.

release

haiku

small screw-in bulb sends

photons penetrating dense fog

emotion stays wound

chill fingers

haiku

gray chill gnaws my joints

fingers ache raw multiply

but still fold to pray

the clowder

mollies and toms

tails vibrating in excitement

ear tuft ‘furnishings’ erect

purring, meowing, speaking

in more than one hundred sounds

cats gather

purr-growl

haiku

guttural purr-growl

squirrel, lemur, elephant

ape, cat, even man

perception - not reality

 haiku

fog splatters sunrise

droplets of tinted water

man perceives as sky

edging into winter

haiku

brittle-edged red-orange

erose maple leaf margins

sharp against late fall

green yellow

haiku

yellow where once green

persona remade in time

accepting winter

flying colors

haiku

celebration of leaf

entering oblivion

in flying colors

stick to it

What is brown and sticky?

A stick

Not for me. My art teacher  in 7th grade

taught me to look closely at the varied

colors in the bark until now i see

no solid brown but streaks of yellow

and bits of hazel, cinnamon, magenta

and purple-gray

seeing such fascinating variations

in the ordinary gives me a running

commentary on life filled with tiny

excitements and joy

i wake up happy

why

even as a child, i questioned

“why?” to my parents’ exasperation

believing, accepting without proof

or at least answers to simple doubts

left me shaking my head, “no” and

“how can that be?” and

“i don’t think so”

so claims on the internet without

evidence or confirmation

leave me wondering how

anyone can accept their truth

let alone act on their assertions

gossips

haiku

twisted pines grumble, growl

infiltrated by fierce wind

blabbing private news

arrogant air

haiku

top of cedar bows

to insistence of fierce wind

demanding homage

love gift

tired from puttering

and nursing, for days,

a mild headache

i wasn’t prepared after 8

hear my doorbell ring

but i opened it to my daughter

bring me my own private

apple pie smelling cinnamony

fresh from the oven

i feel loved

far beyond my deserving

emotion-deafened

haiku

when emotion cries

reason whimpers to the wind

unheard, sharing naught

blue-blooded kraken

kraken changed my understanding

of bluebloods

which i’d always associated

with deprivation of oxygen

and a monied group elite too long

to remain vital, energetic and healthy

Scandinavian folklore present kraken

as strong, active, muscular menaces

from the deep ocean – probably based

on giant squid which attacked seafaring

craft and terrorized ancient sailors

giant squid, like fellow cephalopod,

octopi, have three hearts, large brains

and blue blood

and, although seldom seen, thrive

as animated, vital creatures

unassociated with decadence