Campsite Haiku

seeing jackrabbits
come right into the campsite
I belch, they scatter

~

infrequent raindrops
one here, now one over there
almost like weather

~

everything is damp
mosquitoes buzz in my ear
happy misery

~

a persistent rain
the wiper blades tilt and swoon
no birding today

Out camping in the Texas Hill Country until next week. It is raining today. I’m parked by the ranger’s station to leach some wifi signal. Don’t let the world go crazy without me.

Veiled

you will come to know it
at the very moment you are
putting off thinking about it

but it will happen to you

and you will try to think
your way out of it, too
or think your way through

as you go, as you actually go

Photo: the window by my desk at home.

Clench

A flag of fingers, coiled up
like a nest of adders
in a crowd, blunt of purpose
they are bolstered in a
solidarity that the individual tips
cannot know by touch.

And blow by blow, the fingers
receive them each his own, one fifth
of the trauma, wary draftees
to this militant clan.

Once swinging, arms now dangle aside
dear senses, please return intact
some part of what was abandoned:

A decoded texture, a balanced spoon
the almost unknowable softness
of a rose petal.

Spinners

an innocent thought
effects follow like shadows
drought and flood alike

~

karma ripening
shaping on its potter’s wheel
goblins of the night

~

conceptual frames
stacked together so neatly
this game has no end

 
 
 

(illustration by me, 2009)

Fledgling

fledgling Blue Jay
seems bewildered to be
in the world, what
a peculiar urge

to leave the nest, without
a second thought
to do, and do and rest

in a place where
every moment is
a kind of birth canal
squeezing us out, into
the next, and for what

—to do our best


Young Blue Jay photographed June 28th, 2018, in Galveston, TX where they are said to be somewhat rare.