the third season (20171121)

red autumn eye
looks southward now

through heavy coat
hard to feel its gaze
but the eye lingers over me
like twilight spiderwebs in my hair
counting out my time
dawn by dawn

i set my feet upon the earth
send down roots
among sycamores
among eucalyptus
i can stand a cold morning or two

i haven’t seen a paperboy
in years
/forgive the sexist terminology
i am aware of it and i’m working on it/

i haven’t heard the
satisfying smack
of atrocities landing in my driveway
or my neighbor’s driveway
my neighbors drive away
my neighbors driven away

i do not read the news
still, it reaches inside my chest
night time hands
separating organs from fatty membranes

autumn red eye
roll south
take these shuddering breaths with you
take these neighbors
who drive away
who don’t read the paper

roll south

passing (20170729)

sweat sticking to my neck
like some kind of glue
the only thing
adhering is

the waning heat of
this summer evening

as with the night
so too the season

but there will
be flames ahead
we creep slowly into
fall like we’ve
forgotten to let go
of summer’s hand
while autumn waits
on the doorstep
checking her watch

winds of autumn (20161018)

i apologize, homer,
i don’t have a goddess
to invoke or a pathetic
fighter to prop up
only my poor verses

all useless jargon
metaphor and simile
meter and rhyme
or rhythm at least

but i will whisper my true name
to an acorn
and plant it at the crossroads
every leaf and twig
will sigh my secrets

when autumn bares the trees
my words will blow about you
stick to your shoes
and you will pluck out
of your hair while gazing
in your mirror

september sky (20160920)

out walking
under this late
september sky

promised thunderstorms
never saw a drop of rain
dirty mud drops
spotted the bonnet of the car
where they dried

the air stinks of rain
refusing to fall
and diesel
–petrichor and fuel–
making me remember
autopia and the submarine ride
at disneyland

they don’t
take paper tickets

the blue in the sky
a cobalt strike
like earth when
you take her picture from space
clouds rolling
blisters of grey and
not quite white

i remember autumn
by the smell of leaves
wet sticky ones–all wilted lettuce
and dry ones–crackling thin potato chips

bring on the equinox
i’m ready for a day with
an equal amount of light
and darkness

Poem 20141121

Hey. it’s Friday. Let’s try a haiku.

Every teacher assigns theseĀ little jewels to theirĀ students because they’re just three lines, right? and you just have to have the right number of syllables. I know after reading them and reading about them that it’s not that simple to distill a single moment into something so compact. But I love haiku.


on this cloudy day
the hens loiter near the coop
while a hawk watches