Sunday, April 24, 2016

first language

tiny glowing drops
across the pale green orchid
too diffuse for words
    on the face of rooted life
    water, the first language

Monday, April 4, 2016

Earth Day Everyday

among the cattails
trying out the world
baby ducks

......................

down there, the valley blooms
up here, snow still on Black Butte
gardner beware

........................

walking the garden path
his heart home again to England
Lilly of the Valley

.........................

shy and newborn
white dogwoods lighting the forest
a young bride

...........................

waiting for my wren's song
    to own my back yard
"Come home soon, it's yours."

Monday, March 28, 2016

the dry canyon

the dry canyon
    over bones and bleached
    branches, a never wide enough
    trail, filling in footprints
    with dust and scree
initials
    wearing away, so high    
    on broken bramble walls
    a cairn piled, reaching up
    against time, wordless
naming
    like forgotten ancestors in sepia
    this too was watered
    all cottonwood and willow
    fish and drinking deer
the moon
    will not abandon her watch
    moving shadows softly
    along the walls, opening
    and closing the rock bound story

Saturday, March 12, 2016

Mike's Hanging Out Tanka

Mike's hanging out
at Pepper's Pet Pantry
    —dachshund fever
blessed be the rescuers
the ones who really do it

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Orchid Breath

orchid breath surrounds me
tiny waves on morning light
    armor for the day

Monday, February 29, 2016

An Extra Day in February

Constructed
to keep a beat
close the door
on all those

     spinning galaxies
a little planet
    flying through space

way too much for philosophy,
even the Magus Prospero
throws his powerful staff
into the sea.

Yet, here we are
our bonus day held
in an electronic net,
windy,
some morning showers
followed by sunshine
and
a lovely afternoon.

L.C.

Saturday, January 30, 2016

In the Spirit of Rengetsu

Through fleeing clouds
quivering new moon
pale calligraphy

....................................

tiny crooked cup
stolen by the beggar child
look the other way

.....................................

thin blue skin
in a cold winter bath
scrubbing hard

.....................................

between lily pads
a serious little face
koi kisses her nose

....................................

heartbroken lines
crossing down the page
emptying into the sea

.................................

longing for friend
alone on a journey
the cries of geese

.................................

the arrow hums
a rider hits the target
the perfect word

willamette writers

willamette writers

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