At Point Pinole (Not Haiku)

eucalyptus

wild fennel 

dirt

dust 

all that dead grass 

wind &

the Bay --

she plods slowly, smelling them all

& sometimes stooping as far down as she can

to pick & eat a ripe blackberry off the brambles. 

Though it’s daytime...

Though it’s daytime, 

crickets sing

in the tall grass.

A Sorta Kinda Haiku & a Sorta Kinda Tanka

Night comes, and
those little yellow flowers
have closed up shop.


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Tufts of green with
those little yellow flowers,
settled in the cracks
between pieces of gray cement--
and people call them weeds!

Two Versions

In the shade of trees,
a cat naps, sprawled on grass.
I'm stuck inside.

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I'm stuck inside.
But, in the shade of trees,
a cat naps.

4/9/15

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

The Lizards and I: Two Haiku

Seeing my shadow, 
lizards flee into tall grass.
I've disturbed the peace!

---------------------------

Bright sun warms grey rock--
the lizard's patterned back
blending in.

9/1/14

Summer's end?  Not here:
black and white birds fly past
parched grass to a green tree.

8/17/14

Grimy city, full
of human misery. Where
are the grass, trees, birds? 


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By all accounts of the well-traveled, San Francisco is a relatively clean city.  But that's not how it seemed to me this particular day.

The Other Day...

I was driving along Highway 4, and I saw a coyote. I've been thinking about it ever since--its long, clever face and its somewhat menacing gaze when our eyes met. It was one of the coolest things I've ever seen. I hope these haiku do it justice.

Coyote
Eyes meet—yours clever,
threatening; mine surprised by
your bushy tail.

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You’re much browner than
I realized, Coyote.
In paintings, you’re grey.

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Your gait quick, easy
through the tall grass. Brown
and grey, you blend in.

Memorial

White crosses dot the
hill and multiply. Fresh grass
grows under them all.

Poppies unfurl from

Poppies unfurl from
weedy, tall grasses: petals
of gold wave gently.

The grasses are green
and waving. But, here and there,
a golden poppy.

At Santa Rita Jail

Ignoring buildings
of sickening mauve, two geese
nestle in green grass.