Poems for a Small Place to Rest - haiku tanka quatrain poetry

Page IV

Poems for a Small Place to Rest

Footprints in the snow, I walk the other way

The waterwheel that turned and
turned, then rusted:
what dreams it has of spring rains

Dragonfly lights on my finger -
summer reed sways

Autumn close to the edge of this
evening -
I don a heavier jacket

Tide goes out, we go across, clammers dig deeper

The bowl is empty, but the flies keep coming back for more

for M.R.

More or less: one apple
sliced in half. Delicious!

In the tall grasses
among the crickets -
rain-song

If I have to spend another night alone
I think I'll die, I said
and two nights later say the same thing
making a liar out of me once again

At the outhouse door:
a swarm of flies,
well-wishing

I see my reflection -
field of buttercups,
faces turned toward the sun

The sea is open, everything goes down

The windchimes are silent now -
Poet, catch your breath
Then, speak up

Heart that breaks so easily - Tell me, how is it the autumn
geese find their way back?

The chair beneath me creaks -
My bones already weary
in their grave

Tonight I sleep without pajamas
the pillow snug between my legs
And dream all night of being with you

By the outdoor spigot
irises bloom -
the man I love,
his eyes are deep blue

Only great poetry moves both heaven and earth
Imagine that -
Science has been sweeping the dust
from the wrong corner of the universe

If it's all the same to my friends
I could do without them
but then, again....

Everything before is of no matter -
the only obligation is to wake up

Little cricket, no fear:
there are grasslands enough
for both of us, still

Two willows
lean into each other -
old couple

I want to live to die a thousand little deaths
and each time come back singing
with a voice like water
and clear to the bottom

Out roaming spring fields:
the walking stick
I left somewhere behind

The philodendron sends out
its new leaf, pale green
and draws me near

Glass jar with fireflies -
Light enough for haiku

Stepping out the front door -
honeysuckle fragrance -
O now I want to live forever

From a tiny bit of yard, the hummingbird's nest

To defy all sermons -
write the holy words down

They're easy to find: the path ends where the wild roses begin

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