Tag Archives: Yellow
Punctuated
how dare the canary,
a relative wisp of a force,
sing,
then presume
my ears,
my feet,
my heart…
were present,
or captive,
or cared, at all?
Photographic Memory Expedition
One would ask, “Wouldn’t it be lovely?”
Driving down gridded streets that sometimes wound East, then South.
Thinking of shutters painted contrasting colors, or perhaps altogether removed.
One imagines children’s summertime voices.
Carefree and popsicle glee, front sidewalks their territory.
As it should be.
One seems perfect there.
Small and yellow, with miles and miles of welcome.
Surely big enough for whatever weather.
The New Yellow: A Haiku
It is a coward
A coward who will do this
Not this, rather that 
It is a coward
A coward who will do this
Not this, rather that
Ne’er
It's late afternoon
So the clowns have come out
The clowns and their clouds have come out
Juggling the truth
Denying the light
Sure that they'll not lose the fight
I own afternoon
And ev'ning and morn'
In armor, I'm clad to the bone
It's late now, for you
So clowns take your clouds
Back to your faint-hearted home
Chief: A Haiku
You spew your toxins
You won’t get down on your knees
You steal their first food
“It’s A Good Face.”
Thank you for the souls
Who let their hair grow
Who don’t fail to show
Who’d never fear to know
Who smile with the flow
Who, despite dark, go
And wear yellow sunglasses
Yellow like Buttercup
Yoga class
A dark, dark street
At the end of the line, please, please, please
My first Home
A Trek not for the faint
The seat of power
Christmas but not really
Where the mountains meet the sea
At school one day on a lark
Christmas for real this time
New Year’s for sure
With a porch swing
In the mailbox
Around every corner
God knows where else I’ve forgotten
I grew honest
I grew proud
He was there and you were where?
Duck
I saw a man
Running
From
The wind of all things
To return to his safe spot
Out
From
The sun and into Yellow
Fireflies’ Lives
In the tiniest of places
I know where to find
The silly at heart
So lovely, so kind
Throughout the day
The feeding of souls
In a lemon-yellow room
They do dine and reach goals
A breezy tree fort
Where they learn their true names
During made-up mysteries
While good fun stakes its claim
In a south-facing cove
At the end of the day
See them nurture the Earth
Helping love find its way
