July 1, 2016: A Haiku

Here is where I live
The end of your fingertips
Your utterances

June 30, 2016: A Haiku

Learning to let go
Sun glinting off your shoulders
Fly and live again

The ache of the ache
Or the alone of alone
May we choose neither

This is of ancient
A thousand or more
To breathe invisible breaths
One quarter million at least
For whom love runs deep
Seven miles for now

And the two sisters
Lived happily evermore
It was decided

The kind of whispers
a man utters when his breath
is fully stolen.

Over. Round and round
I’ll pedal. I’ll not forget.
I’ll fall from That bike.

Would that the Cello
Her Master’s breath resounding
Sing on nonetheless

Draw the parallels
Take heart we’ll not intersect
Watch me from yonder

Seeing you hand-held,
I ache. Yet I pray and smile
most earnestly, oh.