Hi poetry friends, we’re back from a couple of weeks in the sun. Here are some tropical haikulings from our travels …
no answers in the sunset—
watching it redden
I forget the question
*
a warm wind blows north
thoughts become clouds—
I chase their shadows
*
enormous spider!
or just a scrap of leaf—
the heart leaps just in case
*
years after the wreck
returning to the wreck
this time with anticipation
*
this body
a million million doors
all of them swung wide
*
the further I swim from shore
the clearer the ocean’s invitation—
keep swimming
*
on the heart’s cracking walls
such tender graffiti—
you were made to love like this
*
the surf and I reach
for the same pink shell—
all day we play for keeps
*
in white sand
my fingers trace vague outlines—
what is and what is not here
*
butterfly farm—
everywhere I look
life reinventing itself
*
diving into clear water
I change from swimmer to wave—
gentle communion
*
in the arms of dawn
waking to unfamiliar birdsong—
oh rising urge to sing a new song
*
white underfeathers
of the osprey soaring—
my heart comes out of hiding
*
with a drill sergeant voice
he clips out orders for meditation—
deep peace arrives right on time
*
imaginary
this last piece of key lime pie—
still, we vote for who gets it
*
hold back, my friend says
but I fall relentlessly open—
red red hibiscus
*
after two weeks away
new birds outside my window—
or perhaps new ears
