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a reflection on mortality
worn from rapids climbed,
weary bones feed the forest
salmon’s promise filled
a cycle of seasons
Spring skies blow pregnant
as pillowed clouds promise rain
new green drinks deeply
geese gone North to nest -
Summer sun smiles high all day
baking my bones brown
bright skies and strong breeze
ripe fruit sundered from their vines
sing Autumn’s anthem
wind howling through trees
I sit snug knowing no boat
swings from my anchor
(once again) current events (originally circa 1990)
why does he smile so
talking head of war each night?
dry leaves fall silently
sad man’s face reflects fear
on waters uncalmed
by oil filled drums of war
on encountering haiku
subtle swift haiku
bold word mode paints gentle strokes
of a poet’s brush
faint phrase and fragment
of newborn haiku in hand
watching snowflakes melt
when you go after verse in a balloon
the great thing is
not to let the words know you're coming