As National Poetry Month winds down

it's time to let haiku rest.
Put down the spoon.
Let there be clear-eyed silence.

Two perspectives on daffodils

and why Spring is so beguiling.  I've always thought daffodils and asparagus have been lovers.  And each with her love of water and words which whisper.  

Perspective is concentric

when it comes to seasons; seasons greening.  Note the perspective above -- an inspired plating of salad.  Like the weight of the perfect word just as the line breaks and begins anew.  Ultimate "ha."

The place of the dream

Why do her dreams return to this place? Why doesn't she remember how she gets to this place?  By water?  By air?  On foot?  Why does she awake thirsty?  Why does she remember that fragment from Sappho?  Why does she long for persimmons?

What she saw in last night's dream

and upon waking, why these interlocking & perplexing questions?
When did she stop wearing her red boots?
At what time of day does the horizon appear watery?  Precisely.
Why do forests shape shift?
How does a poem know which word will come next?
Which tomato gets to keep the worm?
Why does conversation often come full circle, and precisely why do interlocking & perplexing questions resemble a cat?

A flower's bud is pure memory

A few days before, I spot these familiar buds -- tight pods of color -- and I think peonies.  The rational mind shouts "impossible, if not improbable."  Childhood is marked by a hedge of peonies and ants.  Vivid memory -- 60 years, plus.  Ha, again and this time --factual.  Indeed, multiple peony plants.  I'm in heaven as I recall my first favorite food & author.  If you guessed, cheeseburger and Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, we're in sync.

What attracts the happy looker-ons

This beauty is created for survival not for us happy looker-ons.  Of course beauty is one of the major food sources. So get out and shop for free in nature's mega-supermarket. Take on the mind of a bee, of a hummingbird, or a blank sheet of paper. Never leave home without a pen.