a haiku lament
Don’t you know it’s June?
My careworn heart’s awaiting
your comforting tune.
Photo: Cicada. Noel C. Hankamer. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.
Where are you, cicadas?
On Poetry
Memorial Day acrostic
Photo: A Funeral Flag… Beverly & Pack. CC BY
Service.
Active.
Courage.
Remember
Incalculable
Fidelity,
Indebted
Country.
Epitaph.
Purposed and poised
You cannot know
not yet
how your presence
has utterly transformed
my world
seven months
of pure wonder
every day new
purposed and poised
tied with a bow
oh but one day
one day
you’ll know
If only the world could be like kindergarten
If ever you need to feel loved
visit a kindergarten class
where they greet you
with open arms
and a question:
“Can I have
a hug?”
Photo: hug. gagilas. CC BY-SA 2.0.
Portrait of the artist, age six
Her pride’s on display
alongside her rainbow fish
in a gallery
celebrating creation
the heartwork of our children
Better angels
The better angels
of our nature
cry out for
resolution
absolution
hear them calling
always calling
for the prevailing
of a collaborative spirit
over the combative one
before
even more
is lost
Photo: “If God Will Send His Angels.” just.Luc. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.
Fireflies
an acrostic
First glimmerings
In the gloaming
Rekindle ancient
Enchantments:
Fairies freewriting with
Lazy punctuation
Inkglow illuminating individual
Evening essays containing
Secret spells, summoning summer
Firefly. Mr.k_Taiwan. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
Firefly symbolism is also enchanting. In China, fireflies are associated with scholars studying at night.
Big brown rabbit
I am coming home late
if you are meeting me at the gate
unintentionally, but still
at the end of a long day
I shall go my own way
and leave you to play
sweet clover for you
sweet dreams for me
lettuce savor the evening
dear Big Brown Rabbit
Finch fantasia
fantasia
nounMusic.
1. a composition in fanciful or irregular form or style.
2. a potpourri of well-known airs arranged with interludes and florid embellishments.—Dictionary.com
They’re still here,
the finches
with the nest
in the magnolia wreath
on my front door
four weeks after
their Easter-egg hatching
I feel certain
these babies can fly
yet they linger
every little singer
adding its glory
to each new day
how I wish
this gold
could stay
Short recording of the finch fantasia
A day in May
It is the season
of newness
of flowering
of fresh color
of cloudless sky
so blue it hurts
it is the season
of grass
of earth
of birth
of birds
of Eastertide hatchlings
leaving nests
to wing their way
through the world
it is the season
of contemplation
of existence
of life
of purpose
of time
not standing still
and therefore being
infinitely
piercingly
precious
Micah contemplates pink sorrel and a piece of pine straw
lit bits and pieces 