1/17/2022

On the dying bush—

one bright flower.

Outside my window...

Outside my window --
one white flower grows
on the biggest bush.

Cold Fall day... / Looking at flowers...

Cold Fall day--
opened blinds let sun stream;
cats bask in the beams.

----------

Looking at flowers,
thinking about meditating,
But not doing it.

Outside are birdsong...

Trying Tanka. I'm missing some syllables.  I'm not sure if the "less is more" approach to syllables holds with Tanka like it does with Haiku. More to learn!

Outside are birdsong
and white and purple flowers --
I listen sometimes,
and sometimes really see,
but I'm no monk.

Why keep living?

Why keep living?
Well... There're those blue flowers
on the rosemary, for a start.

4/9/15

In the gray cell,
her memories turn to
green grass and poppies.

Written in September

Summer's last hot gasp --
browned trees and grass and herbs
and dying flowers.

I walk past roses (9/11/14)

I walk past roses
thinking about the drought, and 
dying bees.

Poppies in March

Yellow flowers closed
to a gray, threatening sky.
Roots drink; petals grow.

In front of the Landfill on Richmond Parkway

Weedy, wild flowers
push themselves up anywhere
along the hard dirt.