On Clark Boas Trail

Plodding uphill--

no sound but wind, &

crunching footfalls.

Not a Haiku: Dreamtime (Written for American Poetry Class in 1992/3)

Dreamtime

I,

pulling on black trousers, belt, and shoes emerge man.
It is not worthy of note as I stroll that
I am unsure of the new
shoes,
pants,
belt,
and walk with the quickness
of a fear that reaches up
and taps a woman on the shoulder
like footsteps
following
in the dark.