Magnapoets Japanese Form

summer heat
pulled from the brick wall
after sunset,
surrounding my body,
taking your place

our sidewalk art
back then—hopscotch squares,
no space
left unchalked
from her house to mine

     the short walk back
     from grade school,
     those wispy buttercups
     I'd bring home. . .my mother
     still warmed by spring flowers

flip-flops
slap the ground harder
after class—
just seven, but who else
had ever flunked "swimming"?

     the neighbor kids
     in a semicircle,
     waving farewells
     that day we drove off
     in our Chevy, for good

Simply Haiku, spring 2008
    

she asks me again,
how much calcium
should she take?
my tiny mother's bones
stronger than her memory

moonset spring/summer 2008

my once-held dream
of working a farm,
feebly realized
in this backyard patch
of basil and mint?


bottle rockets, Feb. 2008

more than once
I've ended up lost
in this maze of a town,
on my way to
nowhere in particular

"Tanka Cafe," Ribbons, spring 2008

those young years
I spent trying
not to be him;
now, in photos, me
with the same stern jaw

Simply Haiku, spring 2008.

 

I meander
through tall pines,
before morning
lose myself in a forest
of green flannel sheets

        squinting,
        I imagine it . . .
        our rustic home
        sprouting up
        through winter ryegrass

"meander" pub'd in MET and "squinting" in Landfall.

 

yoga 101 (tanka sequence)

traffic thick
two minutes late to class—
the yogis
in their cross-legged worlds
my own breaths rapid

our teacher
asks if we enjoy
the sun salute. . .
rebellious today
in my mind, I say “no”

wishful yearning
to be a graceful tree. . .
we are told
all trees shake and sway
(some are even uprooted?)

fallen leaf
resting on the ground
~ breathe in, breathe out ~
for thirty seconds
I am a child again

I own no pets
yet a whole menagerie
here today:
happy bear, sailing swan
and briefly, a butterfly

ah, arching cat
and stretching its hind legs
the downward dog—
my muscles challenged
as my identity wanes

peace found within
at the mountain lookout. . .
steady arms
outstretched against the wind,
I am a proud warrior

and now a corpse
with visions of light, until—
the bell’s cold peal
signaling the end of class
shocking me back to life! 

Author’s notes: Words in italics indicate specific yoga poses. The child pose can also be referred to as fallen leaf.

pub'd in Lynx.

homemade books—
You can be a writer
my dad once said
though hoping, I suspect,
I'd do something sensible

first pub'd in Simply Haiku, spring 2008.

a pretty girl's smile

in a crowded subway car

on Monday morning—

come on, old rest-of-the-day,

what have you got to offer?