An Interlude of Logic





barbarians at the door
their heads on backwards
gossiping with the dragonflies
they seem nice enough
ask me how I am today
but they already know
they are a little supercilious
I don’t trust them
and attempt to close the door
but the dragonflies hover
in the hinges
knowing I will not hurt them
the barbarians try to convince me
to join them on a walk
down the lane to see the fox
and to ask forgiveness
but the fault is not mine
the barbarians tell me
we are all at fault
and I can’t fault that logic
but I remain unconvinced
the barbarians screw their heads on
rightly and walk off
saying no matter
they will ask for forgiveness in my name
I watch them lumber off
the dragonflies become unhinged
and I want to follow
but I do not.



Too Old





He’s not my type
besides he has six girlfriends.

So which is it?
he’s not your type or
he has six girlfriends?

He doesn’t have six girlfriends
they’re only friends
you know, platonic.

Why do you say
he has six girlfriends
if he doesn’t, actually?

When you’re of a certain age
you look around
and you see things that aren’t there –
for you.

Like what?


Are you too old to be loved?

I am.

Do you never notice the deep purple hydrangeas,
the heads of your foes
bobbing at the window?

Do you not weep with mothers in wind-blown small towns
accepting delivery of flag-draped coffins?

Do you not rejoice when you wake to the harmony
of the songbirds at your windowsill on a summer morning?

Do you not shout and pound your fists on the floor
when you hear of a woman raped the next street over
or 10,000 miles away in a far off land?

I do all of that and more.

Then do not say to me you are too old.
Say to me the world is still young
shot full with promise.

Carpe Diem – Tan Renga Wabi Sabi’s ‘old beacon’

Today at Carpe Diem, or more accurately, a couple of days ago, we were offered Wabi Sabi’s lovely haiku. Though, as usual, I’m a bit late, I had to give it a try. I live 20 minutes from the Pacific Ocean. Just off the beach we frequent is a small lighthouse equipped with a fog horn that sends out its signal sound every minute or so. I imagine it might annoy some, but I love it.


old beacon
hailing all strangers
mind the land                                  © Wabi Sabi

my grandfather warns me off
not remembering my name                Steph

Thanks for reading!

Carpe Diem – Lolly’s ‘crossing the footbridge’

At Carpe Diem it’s Lolly’s turn today. This one led me toward love. I don’t think I’ll ever approach the grandeur of Emily Dickinson’s love poems. Love presents itself in many guises as we all know. This one, in fact, took a left turn from Emily’s lovely sentiments.

(c) Emilie Lin

(c) Emilie Lin

crossing the footbridge
a sound that comes unbidden
my wild beating heart  

behind my own reflection
smoke and mirrors of your love                   (Steph)

Thanks for reading!

19 Geese


Nineteen geese soar

over the scrupulous vineyards

watching from the second story

their shadows glide


dark wingspans on the green

grapes fat with sugar


Then there is that tree

I hadn’t noticed it before

with so many trees on display

on the cusp of autumn

the leaves have turned

a lighter green, almost yellow

it reminds me of my mother


Odd, perhaps, but true nonetheless

with her short curls

her round face, not heart-shaped or square

round, plump, healthy

this is how I prefer to remember her

undead, wearing her glasses

reading a book

Thanks for reading!

Sweet Nothings

click for credit

click for credit

“The earth has music for those who listen.”  [George Santayana]

The wind talks to me. Everyday at the same time, twilight, he makes an appearance. The sun lowers on the horizon, the day cools, and he wakes from his nap. Some days he whips through the backyard taking me in his arms, and we waltz across the brittle grass. After our sashay he spirals away, into the mimosa tree murmuring sweet nothings among the laden branches. The tiny pink blossoms cascade like snow at his feet. He retrieves them, tosses them skyward where they meander in his updraft, and finally settle like old friends into my hair.

On other evenings he catches me off guard. Suddenly he’s there by my side, lifts a tendril of hair, tucks it behind my ear, whispers my name, and scampers off to entice the songbirds with his easy currents, allowing them to drift in his wake with little effort. They sing him their thanks.

On the evenings he doesn’t visit, when the air is heavy and still, when the effort to rise is hampered by the accumulated heat of the day, I miss him. I listen, and long for his approach.

the wind
arrives in stealth
sweeps me off my feet

For the Ligo-Haibun Challenge presided over by Pirate, Penny and Nightlake. Click on any link to read the entries, or better yet, submit your own.

Thanks for reading!

Carpe Diem – Mystery

Today the theme at Carpe Diem is Mystery. It’s all around us. The mysteries of technology, and how we’re able to communicate with millions in the click of a publish button on a blog. Or at least communicate with the three people who might read this post. 🙂

I’m in thrall of technology. We often complain about the distraction of our Smartphones, Twitter, Faceboook, the Internet. With good reason. Sometimes we’d do well to put aside our machines, and sit across the table with a loved one, an acquaintance, a child or a stranger, and enjoy a face to face conversation. Each one of us knows whether we ought to do more of that. It’s a matter of balance, isn’t it?

But the mystery surrounding the ability to connect with people around the globe – in an instant – is thrilling.

I’m very fortunate to live in a rural area. I have the best of both worlds. I have technology at my fingertips and the natural world all around me. The mysteries of nature, of course are unrivaled. I plant seeds in early spring and harvest food a month or so later. That is a mystery I try to solve every year. Which seeds will bear the greatest bounty of lettuce, tomatoes, beans and kale. Every year it’s different. Unraveling the mysteries – that is life!

I’ve talked too much today. Here are a couple of haiku on the theme: mystery.



the earth’s crust
a buried seed emerges
mystery of renewal

night-blooming jasmine
an insight triggered
mystery solved

Thanks for reading!