visiting father
at the nursing home--
I pretend he knows
Spring
tip toeing around
the snow drifts
admiring
the beauties God planted
wildflowers
patter
only the cat can hear--
mice
life and asparagus:
the sweetest part comes up first
toasting
my shadow toasting
me back
revealing nests
of an earlier season--
autumn
my armchair--
a good old place to recall
good old times
at the bus stop,
people gather and talk
on cell phones
the weather forecast:
heavy rain followed by
mosquitoes
the winning haiku:
written on a summer day
about a snowstorm
my poplar planted,
I walk away wondering
who will die first
first loves:
the husbands and wives
of husbands and wives
after breaking
his vow of silence, the monk
nurses his sore toe
birds of all kinds
perched on the scarecrow
known as St.Francis
don't know why
but bamboo is on my mind...
wind sounds
not so long ago
we washed them in a river--
at the Laundromat
the eagle and hawk
fly diverse paths in a sky
big enough for both
old friend moon--
I will miss you up ahead
when the path turns
more interesting
than what we came to see--
the faces watching