From the window...

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

Clear Drops of Rain...

Clear drops of rain—

Trying not to be depressed,

I gaze at pine branches.

20 Weeks Ago

Out the window,
trees wave at each other
in the cold wind.

A Tanka & a Senryu

Ugh, this heat!
Everything smells like dust,
even in the shade.
So look up to the green leaves,
the sanctuary of trees.


#tanka

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

The loveliest walks
can result in blisters.
Take them anyway.

#senryu (I think!)

Taking out the trash... (Tanka)

Taking out the trash--

my neighborhood appears! 

Trees, hills, plants, fresh air!

It's beautiful out here;

I forget so easily.

Rain on the roof...

Rain on the roof

for ten whole minutes--

not enough for the trees.

Two Versions

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

--------

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

From Last Night

At dusk,
birdsong and warm wind--
and the smell of tacos. 


In the stifling room,
voices talk of freedom,
hope, love... And the heat.


Evergreen trees
shake gently in the breeze,
swaying to birdsong. 

Written in September

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

9/1/14

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

8/31/14

Brown trees-- no water

to sustain them, nor the birds

lighting on their branches.

8/17/14

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


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

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.

In Santa Clara

I hope that possums 
and raccoons eat the ripe plums
that fall from your trees.

Summer sun glares down...

Summer sun glares down--
a crow hops in the shade 
of an old oak tree.

8/2/11

In the city,
only buildings are beautiful.
Anemic trees host squirrels
who seem more like rats than do
their bushy country cousins.
City sparrows look best bathing in a
man-made fountain, hopping
daintily from one concrete block
to another.

Maybe that's why I like the city at night:
dark obscures the trash of the streets;
white, golden domes of civic centers shine pure;
the squirrels have retired into the trees;
sparrows have hopped to shelters under eaves;
and only people, their lights, their batteries, their phones
show,
instead of natural reminders of destruction.
And in this dark, it's easy to look away from sights
that don't fit my versions of beauty.

Can You Tell I Find the Fog Depressing?

All Written Yesterday:



The hills' bright green dulled
by thick grey fog -- even the
sun's bright orb is dimmed.

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



Fog curls dark fingers
around the tips of trees. Grey
darkens the bright green.

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



Why do I seem sad?
Even the sun struggles to
pierce this dank morning!

Brown Greens

Brown greens: branches sway
in wind’s gusts, stretching up to
meet Fall’s first hard rain.