April 2011
3 posts
My haibun “The Grackle Tree” is included in the latest issue of “Nothing. No One. Nowhere.”: http://bit.ly/gAU3XL
Interesting interview with haiku master Clark Strand at Writing Our Way Home blog: http://bit.ly/fGg56A
1 tag
My sci-fi haibun is up at qarrtsiluni as part of the translation issue. Check it out: http://bit.ly/ie7RM5 haibun
March 2011
14 posts
The barn swallow snatches a butterfly from midair… wildflowers in the breeze. http://bit.ly/gVszBB
The chickadee with the broken leg wobbles on the feeder’s edge, grabs a seed and flies for the trees. http://bit.ly/hEQ16e
A pencil gray sky, thunder in the western counties— fresh elm leaves shiver. http://bit.ly/eUB6GD
collapsing piles of oak leaves / old rake in the garage / footsteps sound like rattlesnakes http://bit.ly/hwHClx
Fever and writhing chills… the worm moon’s stark reflection in the bathroom window. http://bit.ly/fVrZAr
1 tag
A crow aches for the sky; he rows against the wind. A glint of sunlight… an airplane passing. http://bit.ly/hQC3SA aros
A lone barn swallow arcs across the growing moon. http://bit.ly/gog282
Hey, film
if there are angels / they must be egrets // brilliant / through the morning / highway sky http://bit.ly/f61wQP
The first barn swallow weaves through the open sky— always a surprise. http://bit.ly/gq38oX
Orion and his dog race headlong toward the grinning moon. http://bit.ly/ffehST
a slender eclipse…the red-tailed hawk swoops across the noon sun http://bit.ly/e8AqpI
a slender eclipse…the red-tailed hawk swoops across the noon sun http://bit.ly/e8AqpI
the gates of spring / creak open / a jay tilts his head // grackles return / shadows descending http://bit.ly/hHhuQP
wildflowers / spark across dry fields / wildfires bloom http://bit.ly/hqLSBN
February 2011
15 posts
the powerline sways / a hawk dives into the grass / wildflowers blooming http://bit.ly/gusMy6
a sudden rainstorm / hammers the metal rooftop / cars whisper by http://bit.ly/fhIaTu
neighborhood echoes / thumps and bumps muffled by fog / a trash can on the curb http://bit.ly/fBEP35
a wren sings / swaying live oaks / brush the sky http://bit.ly/eFeDuv
a red-tailed hawk sits
on the traffic camera…
eyes on the highway
http://bit.ly/fDBFs4
a red-tailed hawk sits
on the traffic camera…
eyes on the highway
http://bit.ly/fDBFs4
clouded sky / a blanket of light / pale moonglow http://bit.ly/fB095S
yellow gravel spread
out against last week’s ice…
a dry riverbed
long shadows / pintail ducks ripple / a small pond http://bit.ly/ghS1Kq
minor chords / this homemade guitar / winter blues http://bit.ly/hUsZTo
a truck spins out / donuts in front of my house / the silence of snow http://bit.ly/iaTFVq
drooping bushes…
tonight, the weight of snow
that hasn’t fallen
Black birds huddle
against the leeward side
of highway signs.
Sleet hisses through
the live oak and cedar elm,
February blustering in
after three days of spring.
January 2011
26 posts
quiet stream // old stones / wearing down / too slow // to ever see http://bit.ly/eF6Jv8
Near the Tex-Mex joint,
a mockingbird sings spring days
between Arctic fronts.
Velvet starry skies— I walk the dogs more slowly on these winter nights. (They don’t mind.)
birdless sky / still field / a bare tree // red-tailed hawk / watching http://bit.ly/gMbvU7
a crisp wind / killdeer seem to blow / rising leaves
Steam from the neighbor’s
rooftop vent briefly obscures
the now-waning wolf moon.
Sodden leaves,
curled black
lumps in the gutter.
A warm day
between cold fronts.
Sunshine / cloud shadow
floats over
the dry field. I wait.
The dogs pace.
The hour of the bone
is at hand.
Rainy dawn.
Gray shapes of sparrows
on the feeder.
Dabbling ducks
swim slow grey circles.
Cold drizzle.
Muddy hoof prints
where deer came to the stream.
A wren sings nearby.
A twisted elm leaf—
last summer’s outline frozen
in the birdbath’s ice.
Arctic air—
the gray sky lowers.
Empty trees.
Good digging—
all day, wiping mud
from dog feet.
Winter morning stars—
the joggers’ sneakered feet thump
a muted rhythm.
1 tag
Early morning stars— a joggers’ sneakered feet thump a muted rhythm. http://bit.ly/gPxQLF aros
Winter morning stars—
the jogger’s sneakered feet thump
a muted rhythm.