Your hair is the thief
Who long ago stole my heart
Let the old friends play
Pure: A Haiku
This Haiku: My If
Come Home: A Haiku
The back of your head
The crux of my right elbow
Do you think they’ll meet
Helping Her Go (3)
“…the Sun when she came
Wore the air of her name
The scent of the rain in green eyes
Burned on my brain as I lift to her hope
Should carry her through, with a dime and her soul
Girl, we’ll meet again in the best place out there
In which lifetime, we can’t care….”
Walking to the window, Victor thought to himself: Since when? It bothered him that he’d been given to distraction at that damn window all evening. This time, of course, he saw what he was sure he’d finally see, so it didn’t surprise him. Someone’s holding her hand. “I knew it,” he blurted aloud to himself, covering a small patch of the glass pane with the steam from his words. I knew the universe wouldn’t allow someone like Cressida to walk life’s road alone.
Scanning the details of them, he saw orange energy -a blur of it. He saw loving, longing souls. It made him smile, then laugh, quietly. Cressida repeatedly reached for her companion’s hand as he launched back and forth from her side. Victor loved the expression of contentment that washed over Cressida’s face when the two joined hands again. This someone moved with a brand of fleet-footedness and boundless wonder that felt familiar to Victor. His height belies his age, Victor realized, quite certain of himself. He doesn’t yet have that awkward, growing-into-his-face look that older little kids do. He’s unabashedly silly. He’s missing a front tooth and a half. I’m sure he’s seven.
What did I do, the sad revelation washed over Victor. She’s genuinely lovely. When Cressida reached out to shake my hand hello, I should have kissed hers, he anguished briefly. Now all we have is the ghosts of each other’s fingerprints forever on our own hands. This notion comforted him. Still, Victor reflected, I should have told her I’m leaving, moving away today.
I know she’ll remember me somehow…I hope. She’s smart – she’ll see me when she looks in the mirror…something. This streaming emotion overtook him and he noticed his hands were shaking. I know she’ll find me, he convinced himself. But I should have kissed her goodbye, Victor thought. He went back to work, lifting up his heart, scribbling down with ink all this noise, and for now, left it at that.
This Haiku: Collective Stroll
Rolled Shirt Sleeves
Where white silk has never been worn
Nor promises ever spilled forth
No petals tossed up in good sport
None troubadours have set the scene
No busy-ers to plan the dream
The path forth untrodden and green
With eyes that see sacred in place
Beside Love’s Best Fly-ing Ace
The air with my oath I’ll then grace
This Haiku: Hello Here
In a photograph
Is where you should find yourself
While my shutter smiles
Gonzo the Softshell Turtle; Urban Ecology Center -Menomonee Valley; Milwaukee, WI
This Haiku: I’m From You
What Instead: A Haiku
And during your reign
Decree silence o’er my wrists
For they keep shouting
Tho’ I dare not dream
You sign That word into Law
Lest it not come true



