From the window...

From the window—
dark outlines of green trees,
wispy gray fog.

Written Today

Grayest May in decades;
yet, pinkish white blossoms on
the blackberry bush.

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Low tide--
my feet crunch down rocks, shells,
and hermit crab bones.

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Sign of Spring--
a bumblebee jumps into
a poppy head first.

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This dreary May--
Sunshine in the form
of dandelions.

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Star jasmin grows
on the outer walls
of the outhouse.

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Solitary beach...
I see a pack of men
and turn around.

More from awhile ago

All the fog!
There's a city back there,
but you'd never know.

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Sub par tacos
and no Horchata!
Cold wind through the open door....
Disappointment mounts
with every bite.

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He hurries down hill,
the red glow of his cigarette
marking his speed.

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Gray green tide creeps in.
The white gull flies away--
now I am alone.

I love my neighbors' blackberry bushes.

Thorny green branches - - 
white flowers, but no berries. 
The blackbirds will wait.

- - - - - - - - -

Thorny branches stray 
over the old gray fence - - 
no blackberries yet.

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!

Brown-gray lizard stalks...

Brown-gray lizard stalks
a cricket-- bright-eyed crow
watches every move.

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!

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

More 8/5/14

Heavy clouds hang
in gray skies unmoving.
May the rain come!

5/30/14

Gray afternoon--
stag lies dead along the road,
cold and alone.

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.

Poppies in March

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

A Few Haiku

Sun presses its face
against gray clouds-- afternoons
this May are so cold.


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Clouds of varied shades
of blue and white -- towering
puffs! They seem like God.



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Outlines of palm trees
warm gray in the Spring blue sky--
a white gull passes.



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Cheerful round finch hops
here and there, nestling in dirt,
flying up to sky.


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In my mouth the taste
is bitter. Searching my heart,
I found self-pity.

Pyracanthus (2) -- Written a couple of months ago.

Against Winter's dead,
gray air, your red berries bloom
all the more brightly.

Across grey skies is
written the tale of our times:
Machined Relief.

Not Sure When I Wrote These

Cormorant perched on
twisted metal preens its black
feathers in the sun.

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Morning fog obscures
outlines of trees until sun’s
bright light penetrates.

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Blue waters rise and
fall with white foam as cranes fly
across graying skies.


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The sound of blue waves,
the sight of free cranes in the
sky – these soothe my heart.