The Thing: A Haiku
Third sentence from last
Right there on page eighty-six
My mantra begins
Miso Not So Bad
Shaved brussels
Not yet past their prime
Fresh peas, though the ideal
Unneeded, now, to build this meal
Please pray with me
My dying wish — the miso’s not gone bad
In the refrigerator way
Kitchen shears that snip-snipped happily at chives that waited just for me
All
Summer
Long
Somehow found their way to the floor
Could be an honest omen, or
A sign of what’s to come
Not my garden’s tomatoes, fool
They’re for another day!
Please forgive the white, white rice
Devoid of what I crave
Sesame to remind me and tofu hacked haphazardly
Tamari, I wish
Here, this delicious dish
August Thursday
I am the tangled mess
The girl of your youth, whose eyes you dared not look deep into
And never said goodbye to
That I saw you, lovely, tangled, too
Need not have scared you
My broad understanding
Your broad shoulders
We were called
To beckon back the lightning that twisted our existence
But for your fear of me that August Thursday
But for my depth that ran too deep
And your unspoken goodbye
We’d have set our world straight
But instead
Goodbye
Tangled, tangled mess
Universe Orator
Space
The far out there we strive to delve into
The mired-down terra here we call home
Be brave, if you will
Act to master the wherefore
Despite arms never long enough
Lousy, camera-fumbling hands
Fingers that can’t match the shutter speed
To touch what the eyes so beautifully see
To hold that light reflecting
From the Universe Orator
Still, we of mortal’s strength
With small or great faith
Must reach celestial-ward
Look up
Cry out
Be healed
Original Thought Credit: “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.”
-2 Chronicles 7:14
Lotus Position
Fruit Nut
Sweet plum
Summer’s crown jewel
Ripened
Smiling, still
Though ghosted
Chipped away at
Hollowed out
Cut in two
Bitten off, but not spit out
For I remain
Saucy
Thus, your favorite fruit
Go On, Record
For the record
And all the ’70’s vinyl we thrifted for those Saturdays as downtowners
For the turntable we excitedly found
And the way we felt our world spin and spin with it over and over again
For the record
Go on record
To say
You neither had a beach in mind
Nor the white dress for me you described
No thought for a home for us, at all
None lyrical love notes did you ever produce
We were just spinning
As broken records do
Over and over
Until you were over us

525600 Minutes Too Many
“Be done leaving,” I’ve begged Time
Stop the silence
525600 minutes, almost now
Only just this morning
Done biding for unspoken goodbyes
I threw the clock out the door
Glass heart that it has
It’ll not show it’s square-jawed face
’round my gold again
It Kills Me
I cannot remember the words
The top-ten song that found us there, together again that night
A vintage crimson string, tethering us to our wild years
All we knew in common, refined in the storm of them
I sang to you in the sheets we shared
That now escaped melody, I swear to you, sugar, it kills me
If you heard me, say you remember the words
