They fit me:
air, dust, rain
my favorite garments
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Wings skimming
earth's brushstrokes -
An unexpected friend
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Good sidewalk café -
Chattering patrons,
fat sparrows
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My traveling companion
-
Wind and sun make her face
my favorite sculpture
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Crows' footprints'
round the pond's edge -
Koi below.
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My Capistrano -
faithful returns
of seasons and small prodigals
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In my lap
my crumpled old hat -
Seattle autumn
|
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Having been evaluated
and found wanting -
her cold door's farewell.
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This cat, playing -
only its claws
are real !
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If my hand hurts writing,
I can write
about that, too.
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Reconciling
the earth and the sky -
rocks' silence
|
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Meeting
the love of one's life -
A momentous occasion
|
My wall calendar -
where to make room
for "never"?
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I don't know
if the rosebush will bloom,
but its thorns will remind me.
|
Even when old,
the body still heals faster -
My soul, hurting.
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A desert rain -
hope,
or time wasted?
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[condors over the desert]
Coyotes don't understand
that the sky
is a place to live in
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I could draw respite
from yesterday or before
if I still had the crayons
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My neighbor's hut in the distance
- irrelevant
during our feud
|
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Not easy -
choosing between
leeks and radishes
|
Small country town:
The only entertainment here,
crows !
|
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Woman counting waves:
I couldn't stop
to find out...
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Tedious morning -
Leaky boat, cold pond,
clever fish!
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Boy facing seagulls -
Two eyes : Twenty-two eyes,
all busy
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[the jetties]
Stern rocks -
they think the waves
are the masochists !
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My crowded hut -
Not enough room
for me and mosquitoes, both
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This meandering path
must like
to journey, too!
|
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New hiking shoes:
Delightful,
even under the bed!
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[getting dressed]
Thinking I had
one more clean pair left -
and being wrong
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This cat
makes
a lumpy bedspread !
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The old gate -
rust flakes settling
with the autumn leaves
|
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A toast -
delayed
by a broken cork screw
|
Feeling
a lot less "cooped up inside" now -
my leaky roof
|
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Amazing!
Cracks on this side
of the wall, too !
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My love -
doesn't seem to mind too much,
being held
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Afternoon chores -
Even disheveled,
she's beautiful
|
After the fourth bottle -
It's the best wine,
ever !
|
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My late-night drinking:
Well-deserving of the crows
at my morning window
|
Plum blossoms:
the grass softened
their downward journey
|
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Morning Tide:
Inside each seashell
small furls of silence
|
A neighboring town -
Meeting her
in the autumn sun
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Wind on the water,
evening, my thoughts of her
a pleasant harbor
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[loitering adolescents]
Embers of their ancestors:
They do not know
how to live !
|
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These crows on the
sidewalk
must think
they're pedestrians !
|
Each day at the pier -
anglers, baiting lures
seagulls collecting tolls
|
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The pelican:
A precocious fit
on that pier-post !
|
Lifting across the autumn field -
a crow
and its cargo
|
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Paddle, little ducks !
I must look
fearsome
|
My beach shack -
seagulls auditioning
by the window
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Feet firm in the sand
the ocean
comes and goes...
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My sandcastle -
Invaded
by last night's tide !
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Even the road
seems weary
this autumn evening
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Summer storm
and the wind
carries rain-scent
|
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Bent low,
the oak tree
shielding the graves
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Spring rain -
Each shack
with its very own pond !
|
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These sparrows -
Even their noise
is bigger !
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A crow
chases its cry -
Winter evening
|
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Beach filled with
seagulls -
A tough neighborhood
for the crows
|
These crows -
they must know
where they're going
|
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The road at dusk:
Wondering still,
where it would lead
|
Still trying
to find home -
Winter sunset
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A wilted rose -
Regretting
my late arrival
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Thinking
that beggar's pack to be mine,
people eye me more wary
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The egret:
Not too happy
in my presence !
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The old clock:
so indifferent
to our vanity
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Between blossoms:
sparrows fluttering
with the butterflies
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The bare trees,
my spirit,
raw from the wind
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A too-long journey:
Beginning to seem
like the same rocks, same sky
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Along the baseboards
an ant caravan
carries off treasures
|
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Day ending,
I follow the road
much more closely
|
How do these crows live ?
I have nothing
better to do...
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Seeking the wilderness:
A fine place to find
A fine place to forget
|
Contemplating
the lives of seagulls,
the waves come and go
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The autumn moon -
Does it remember
its summer ?
|
Behind ivy
the old wall
crumbles slowly
|
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I'd rather
be ignored by you too,
mosquitoes !
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The old road -
a good companion
in solitude
|
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The spring breeze -
sometimes helping the butterflies,
sometimes not
|
Young seagulls:
Even worse singers
than their parents !
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Evening: The old
bridge
dividing the water
and twilight
|
Ants on my roof -
Are you
enjoying the view?
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The trees in Spring -
Each blossom
in its very own time
|
Spring morning:
A parade of ants
on the garden path
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June morning:
A large butterfly
stuck to my wall
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Apart from my love,
counting waves
as they're leaving
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Village at dusk -
The roofs, a stage
for the evening sky
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A cacophony of falling
upon the already weary:
Winter rain
|
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My love's visit -
still finding teacups, coffeecups,
days later
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They speak
in sparkles of sunlight -
the waves
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Hands entwined,
the branches of cherry trees
facing the river
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The autumn sky -
still finding her absence
disconcerting
|
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These seagulls:
not every landing
graceful...
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A fly, wringing its
hands
on my notepad:
Was it my writing ?
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Preparing to
see off my love,
I am practicing absence.
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© Jon Bohrn (2003)
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