A change of seasons
Buzzards blown too low to scan
Brooding calm descends
Old wounds begin to open
I tap my fingers and wait
And a tanka
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Category Archives: Poems
Five haiku
The seasons are changing. Here are five haiku.
Between frozen leaves
A dandelion blooms
In mute persistence
A love of verses
Sometimes brings a can of worms
All of a slither!
Sometimes brings a can of worms
All of a slither!
Open doors beget
Long lost wonders of springtime
Jewels of childhood!
In early springtime
When Earth received her footsteps
It seemed forever.
Indecisive sky
Rain-soaked birds disturb the trees
Winds are bickering
Over fields
This is a song. It is inspired by Latvian dainas, to which I referred in an earlier post.
Over fields of sweet wildflowers
My heart runs in early morning
Far to the mountains off in the distance
Down to the rolling waves of the ocean
I call your name almost by chance
And I feel the breezes softly singing
From my footfall awakening soil beneath me
A song of our blood in sweet harmony
My bones are grown from the pines and birches
And strung with the willowy vine by the river
My features are honed from hillocks and cairns
And washed by the flow of ancient waters
Somewhere the helix entwines with memory
Somewhere gates long rusted stand open
One gate, it’s said, leads home, and another
To fathoms unknown and unguessed.
The God of Roaches
In the beginning was light,
Sharp, piercing light that burned our eyes.
We were naked in it, we ran from it
And were crushed,
Our corpses breeze-blown and dull,
Inaccessible.
Then God brought forth
The Sweet Darkness
From his large, bulbous Self,
And let it seep out from walls and crevices
With its cool embrace.
Then He brought forth our great host
To feast on fields of
Crumbs,
Oil stains,
And the holy dead.
Because He loves us, He gave us this,
And we shall be his sustenance
When we die.
Armageddon
It started slowly
A faint rumble, then, in the distance,
A thin plume of smoke.
By noon, it would have been dark
But for the flares that seemed everywhere.
The sky was sealed by billows of blackness,
The rumble had grown into pounding.
No reason, I thought, to get excited.
I went inside to make some tea.
exiles child 