Tuesday, February 2, 2016


The foggy world
Is a faded photograph

Monday, October 12, 2015


As I crunch over
Dry fallen needles below:
Scent of a cedar

Thursday, October 1, 2015


Dogs that bark,
People that bark.

Down off

Lowered & rolled
Down off the bus
By way of machines,
I heard the most
human of yawns.


She leaps aside,
Red. Long.

"Let's not eat them all",
The ripe ones
In our mouths.

But on the way back
We can't help
And pluck
Several more.

No animals
Seem interested
In them,
So it must be
Up to us.

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Phoenix, of sorts

Like a shit phoenix
It emerged flying from the toilet:
A little brown moth

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Still Morning

In the still morning air
and distant city noise,
one leaf of bamboo falls.

Monday, May 25, 2015

On Eagerness

I sometimes feel like I'm excitedly running down a beach, eager to feel the coolness of seawater on my feet, only to find each wave I approach receding; leaving only wetted sand under every footfall, gritty between my toes.

Maybe this is just the nature of desire.
Maybe other people only seem to have this problem less then I do.
Maybe I'm wrong about more things than I realize.

Maybe I drive away my objects of desire.
Maybe I mistrust my wants.
Maybe I'm not at peace with them.

Maybe I'm not at peace with myself.
Maybe on some level, it's on purpose.
Maybe I'm trying to teach myself something.

Dangerous Place

Haiku book in wind
The page a dangerous place
For a tiny fly


A gentle face
Shows as soft covers part:
The springtime sun