Friday, September 30, 2016

Lucky 9/30/16

F.O.H?  Friends of haiku.  The precocious & gorgeous kitty is 13 years old today.  I'm the lucky one and we're celebrating with gifts aplenty for haiku.  Imagine his happiness with a new older brother (Dumbledore) and a younger sister who wears her pink heart on her collar (Sweetie).  Also, one spanking-new bungee-mouse.  The latter is his all-time favorite "toy."  Of course, treats aplenty.  And here's the birthday boy --


Even peeling bark flapping in a mild breeze is a canticle waiting to be sung as the someone you love is in the kitchen cooking.


Resting in stone; resting on a tree.  Cats and persimmons -- could the day be finer?  The cat, of course, dreams of persimmons.  The persimmon is dreaming a poem.   Life is lovely when it rests.

Sunday, September 25, 2016

Lemon feathers

Who has ever witnessed such a thing?
Are they migratory?
In which rituals are they celebrated?
Or are they a simple pinwheel waiting breath?
Like a plate, its salad.  Paper a twist, a turn, a stem of words?

Thursday, September 22, 2016


You have arrived at the seat of questions.  Is a chair ever singular?  When you abstract a chair, where do you arrive?  How odd,  to abstract the chair, the initial image multiplies.  Well, now we know a chair is never singular.  Is the same true of a knife?  A poem?

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

It wasn't until I moved to California...

Fill in the blank... Eucalyptus.  Always live near a tree you love.  A tree you can touch.  Also love the spoon which stirs the soup.  Only use a pen which makes love to your fingers.

Don't get me started on avocados.

Saturday, September 17, 2016


Golden beets
Ah so soft
& silky
when cooked
add blue cheese
toasted walnuts
drizzle olive oil
twist of pepper
ah, again
the kitchen
dishes out
a poem

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Glad for glads

Glads -- short for gladiolus.  Those showy blooms.  Vibrant as seasonal tomatoes. Sophisticated & lusty.  A fitting bloom for any poem.  Any meal.

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Fruit and Center

So, here's the inside scoop of how the olive tree views a redwood.  They go right for the center.  Why wouldn't they?  Perhaps not a bird's-eye-view, but one that's pit-centered.  Now, think about the fruit and centers of a poem?  Imagine each letter a pit anticipating its center.  Yup, pits and poems.   

Monday, September 12, 2016

Questions before noon

Have you thought that perhaps a metal tree longs for a pomegranate to grace it's branches, to make it  plump with color?

Where is the center of poem and what does she wish for?  Perhaps, an olive?

Or a plate of uber-ripe figs, what are her favorite verbs?

These are the questions before noon.

Sunday, September 11, 2016


Bless the trees
Bless the light