Category Archives: Morning

Lame Coyote Before Dawn

Posted on May 16, 2014 by

You are surprised to see me. I stand by the black motorcycle as you hobble down the steep asphalt, your right-rear more of a rudder than a leg. You freeze, head low, tail down. We regard each other. “Deer kick … Continue reading →

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Haiku–Arc of Horizon

Posted on May 8, 2014 by

Morning bends the sun to the task of finding a way to dark of night. It seems always to be uphill to the western arc of horizon. I feel the edge rise; thank goodness for gravity; I’d fall to the sky. … Continue reading →

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Haiku–Tomorrow Comes

Posted on April 30, 2014 by

Did not write a poem today; only wrote a verse. Tomorrow comes soon. (top from examinetheglass.com; bottom from isuma.tv)

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Haiku–Robin Morning

Posted on March 29, 2014 by

World of wet drying; sky blue-grey, sun soon coming. Robins sing to me.   (upper left: hangul.com; upper right: mljohnson.org; robin: learner.org)

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Triple Haiku–Shower Revelation

Posted on March 12, 2014 by

My pants feel all wrong; Backwards and weird upside-down. I’m in the shower. I’m not wearing pants, the feeling must be in me. Can it be just me? I put the soap down. I hate it when this happens. A … Continue reading →

Posted in Consciousness, Dream, Haiku, Morning, Poem, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

Haiku–Bipedal Arrogance

Posted on March 5, 2014 by

Wet wall gastropod; how sad, I think to myself. The slug laughs at me.   (upper from gardenrant.com; lower from oregonstate.edu)

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Haiku–This Day

Posted on February 24, 2014 by

This morning I died. This afternoon I woke up. This evening will be. (Change sign from xinyfengshui.com; monolith from sociobiology.com)

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The Rules

Posted on February 18, 2014 by

I have been told to never open a story with weather and I have always asked why. Does it lead to cliché? Sometimes my morning opens with weather and I move through the story of my day from that beginning. … Continue reading →

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Double Haiku–A Nail from the Heart

Posted on January 29, 2014 by

Swept away by brooms intent on dusting heart beats; memories let go. Guitars are only hammers on sublime old nails; questions seeking light. (from eorthe.tumblr.com by Vic de Vera)

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To Grow and Be Safe

Posted on January 26, 2014 by

Well. You’re both down there now with pieces of my heart, shared like brie on a plate for the enjoyment of this family who loves unconditionally and proffers a home to grow in and be safe. We are emptier than … Continue reading →

Posted in end-of-life, family, Morning, Oregon, Poem | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments