halfway up the wall
clematis, purple, waves
and catches the rain
out of silence
the heart rises, stirs
opens the eyes
halfway up the wall
clematis, purple, waves
and catches the rain
out of silence
the heart rises, stirs
opens the eyes
in the summer grass
the cat finds a wounded bird
and begins to play
marathon monday
april air crisp as tulips
blood on the pavement
the sun
the snow
the open window
three turkeys forage
along the side of the road
on my way to work
on the wet grass
beside the park
a lone summer shoe
glitters
despite the clouds
I am late already
but the shoe calls,
begging to be slipped
onto the delicate feet
of a princess
not yet discovered
goldfinch lights on grass
edges up the stalk to peck
at the ripened seeds
mind open and kindly toward
flat water, screaming children,
power tools
wind moving across the water
birdsong bullfrog
dragonfly chainsaw
when the chainsaw falls still
flash of red
against black wings
Three haiku at the Phoenix Hotel on the edge of the Tenderloin
san francisco streets
wrought iron gate, open sky
urban oasis
blue mosaic pool
low chairs arranged artfully
artwork, fountains, fire
outside, the homeless
squeal of buses, 6am
unmerited gifts