Just a Tree Trunk

tree trunkThe uses to which you can put the beautiful desiccated severed spine of an ancient tree on the shore of a dammed river:

1)Performance Stage:

Barefoot tap-dancing
cedar limb as air guitar–
a sunset concert

2)Library/Studio:

Reading Thoreau at dusk–
all the librarians here
are dressed up like ducks

3)Throne:

Issuing edicts
across the calm blue waves
like a summer king

4)Meditation Hall:

 

5)Viewing Deck:

Hot breeze, hazy skies
fish performing somersaults
for a bearded man

6)Ecological Research Facility

Three red-tailed hawks
Twenty-two clouds or just one–
it really depends

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Humboldt Haiku

0A0CD771-A674-46DB-9DE6-09CEC2E003C9Mist in deep summer–
two barefoot woodland creatures
walk the cool redwoods
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Small creek, tall redwoods
she jumps in the cold water
clothes on the boulder
_____________________________

August fog, tall trees
reaching out in deep summer–
a redwood romance

_____________________________

Blackberries and mist
chipmunk enjoys his breakfast
atop the brambles
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Big boulders, big creek
mammals exploring bodies–
Monday morning joy
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Lying side by side
in the center of the creek—
a deep summer treat
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Sometimes in the woods:
plant identification
can be so sexy
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Cold Jacoby Creek
Artemis puts her bow down
for warm caresses
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In the coastal fog
special kind of Humboldt mold
growing on dog poop

The Moon Says Nothing

F420D19A-9D8B-4034-8370-63CA1D92FECEJust me, the moon, the river–

when I get up to relieve myself
the forest is quiet
except for the factory in my head
producing haiku

The forest is still
but engineers in my head
are busybodies

Then assembling a poem
about not being able to take a leak
without being a haiku geek

Sometimes a guy just wants to pee in peace

The river and me–
moon watches us both flowing
through the dark forest

but words pour in one end
jostling to find a way
to get into the product on the other end

It’s like those people who have to take a photo
of everything rather than be in the moment

except my camara lens is made of words
and the shot is on a delayed timer
the shutter won’t snap until
each word falls into place

and all I want to do is go back to sleep.

Sounds of the forest:
river flowing, man peeing
The moon says nothing.

Ahh…relief.

Lean Into the Wind – 10 Mountain Haiku

mountainLean into the wind
from atop granite ridge, but—
don’t fall on your face
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Mountain scurriers
stealing my stuff at midnight—
have fun with my knife!
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Even Neruda
didn’t write a lovely ode
about caddisflies
___________________

There is a reason
you don’t drink from waterfalls
hanging upside down
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Model wearing furs
posing for a photo shoot—
a marmot beauty
_____________________

Walking off-trail
under blue Sierra skies—
pounds of bear scat
___________________

Sleeping back to back
in the freezing mountain air
we survive the night
________________________

At ten thousand feet
the June sun is closer and
cities don’t exist
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He’s just a rodent
but looks so fashionable
in my old white sock
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These granite pack rats
grabbing every loose thing
up on mouse mountain

Awake to Wings – Eight Spring Haiku

lake2At morning and dusk
scooping up their breakfast bugs—
these madcap martins
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At the water’s edge
a family of seven ducks—
bedtime is at nine
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Playing hide and seek
the kids roam from shore to shore
yelling for their dog
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Silhouetted lake
has spring swallows dancing to
ukulele songs
____________________________

Blue wings, white bellies—
thrill-seeker aerialists
enjoy the sunset
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June on the water
swallows and shadows swaying
in the evening breeze
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Wood rat scurries in
picking up after picnics
at the city lake
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Schedule for the month:
mallards morning exercise
I awake to wings

The Bee Leaves His Tavern – Seven Spring Haikus

IMG_0646Bee leaves his tavern
flying cross-eyed without care
full of daisy beer


An April morning
A fern dangles from fawn’s mouth—
Relaxed etiquette


Under the alder
Orion’s belt shines brightly
through the new spring leaves


I go and you go
to distant growing meadows—
two springs arriving


A springtime buffet
as for the fennel down there—
I ate most of it


First fruits and spring breeze
her thigh under fushia dress—
mighty writhing snake


Even in my arms
hearing the moon moan above
you long for my hands