Under the Bashō 2024
Linked Forms, Sequences and Contrapuntal Poetry
Editor: Clayton Beach
- Details
- Written by: Peter Jastermsky
another summer
the way
a mind empties
its own wound
of living alone
a candle in a window
seen by pretty much
no one
the first in forty years
for all occasions
his new set of
so-so sheets
- Details
- Written by: Lorraine Padden & Richard L. Matta
my chat
with a ouija board…
before AI
assumptions swirl
over tarot cards
oracle bones
a faint scent of his
single malt
frayed ice
in our tonics
crystal gazing
the instant
tea leaves muddle
in a second
guessing who will press
save
Lorraine Padden
Richard L. Matta
- Details
- Written by: Amber Winter & Joshua St. Claire
solstice morning
five basalt boulders
surrounded by snow
an icicle forms
drip by drip
deadfall
in the oak grove
Foxfire Moon
I whisper into the hollow tree
grandma blinks twice
hurricane remnants
only the coo
of an Inca dove
images of hell on earth
plasma tornado
caught in the scent
of night-blooming jasmine
neutron stars
cooling peach pies
her rack draws a crowd
***
chatting about
the chicken roost
at Andalusia Farm
breaking the speed limit
making it to mass on time
life flies by
wishing I wouldn’t have chosen
the carpool lane
erasing a pencil heart
from a yearbook picture
high school quarterback
scored more than a touchdown
at homecoming
a gentle, insistent command:
leave the helmet on
running through wildflowers
chasing her dreams
bluebonnets
a wolf pup
under a sweetshrub
searching
among the branches
harutsugedori
a raindrop shatters it
the Falling Leaves Moon
the hayriders
get stuck in a ditch
tractor pull
the red-veined darter
buzzes the labyrinth
Ziggy played guitar
jamming good with Weird and Gilly
and the Spiders from Mars1
Plutonians board ships
for sunbathing on Mercury
***
don’t be silly, mom,
I won’t get cancer
I’ll live forever
taking the perfect selfie
he takes one more step back
they promise to return
to Watkins Glen
each anniversary
pinky swear you’ll stay away
from the hawthorns
the whole hillside
blooming with dianthus
April sunset
long shadows
longer days
I’ll bring the merlot
and the the glasses
meet me by the lake
dipping my toes in the water
I lean in for a kiss
making out
in the back of the Oldsmobile
90’s romance
removing her top
and beckoning him into the night
hiding its shame
the cat covers
its business
failing to guess
the riddle of the Sphinx
Easter Island
deciphering the meaning
of the stone heads
listening for the silence
of the Song Moon
***
the scarecrow
hears the click
of the heels
we keep attempting to satisfy
this insatiable hunger
he makes her
chocolate covered strawberries
with bitter cocoa
Cortés demands to see
Princess Tecuichpotzin
behold a white horse:
and he that sat on him had a bow;
and a crown2
how can horsehair sound
like a dying pangolin?
blue hour
the light through mist
withering
a child dreaming
on a pillow of clouds
Rainbownougat
the narwhal
brings her tea and cakes
macaroons or macarons
raccoons or trash pandas
opalescent pansies
whistling down
a rogue dumbledore
the Red Queen|
shuffles the deck
Sobbin’ Robyn:
I wanted to sit on a porch
with my sister wives3
he plants a ficus
in her backyard
***
in the lawn
playing leap frog
garden bed
an army of totally identical
injection-molded plastic Buddhas
a golden calf
in the shape
of an iPhone
Siri, please activate
the tsukimi simulation
LED leaves
changing
with the season
emerging from the elm stump
chicken of the woods
Anna Nicole Smith
feeds J. Howard Marshall
his favorite mushroom soup
D. B. Cooper
would have been proud
shutting the case
they pop
the champagne
still closed for now
the buds on the plum
we nod politely
as the teacher explains the “F”
on our son’s poem
failure yet again
they suffer an empty nest
odyssey
the monarches gather
then depart
moth to a flame
the toddler runs to the bonfire
***
the stirring
in the stand of birches
Lynx Moon
deer season
a doe walks into scope
one persimmon
and then another
drop into darkness
using rat poison
to kill the opossum
Royal Typewriter
Jessica Fletcher fetches her copy
of Human Anatomy
needle in a haystack
the janitor’s keys
adding the
cherry blossoms
to my Lego bonsai
the gladiolus bulbs we dug
rotted during the winter
my son follows
the earthworm trenches
with his finger
the foxholes
of Verdun
99 luftballons
the hot air balloon race
ends in disaster
100,000 years
in the Oklo Reactor
chemical changes
the teenagers’ hormones
ramp up
slipping off
the satin sheets
***
casting my
favorite body part
for him
the perfect preservation
of the Vendobiont
Lightning Moon
the desert littered
with obsidian
taking my neighbor to court
over the willow’s weeping
pumpkin field
the jack-o’-lanterns
we imagine
trick-or-treat he dares to ask
the madam to loosen the chains
there's rosemary,
that's for remembrance;
pray, love, remember4
Globe Theatre
men sweat under their pantaloons
coolness
a king rail foraging
under longleaf pines
quick make a u-turn
to see the white rhino
thump
thump
new moon
“Randy get the shovel
it’s gopher pie night”
a sweet potato baby
with a face like a
par-boiled yam⁵
lingering warmth
a black bear turns back
***
brave observer
he sits in camouflage
trying to get a snap
all he sees is Polaris
spinning overhead
pear petals
propel downward
raining on their picnic
the sound of the south wind
lifts a hare’s head
it sees
the emptiness
of the tomb
evening meditation
koi in the pond
lilypad
her strength hidden beneath
her beauty
caress of granite on granite
the Appalachians
¹ David Bowie “Ziggy Stardust”
² Rev 6:2 KJV
³ TLC’s “Sister Wives” Season 18 Episode 14
⁴ “Hamlet” Act 4 Scene 5
⁵ “A Mighty Wind”
- Details
- Written by: Amber Winter & Joshua St. Claire
impressing our boys
with the catch of the day
sea star
where do the waves
begin and end?
amber grains
dancing for me
Hunter’s Moon
an alien whiteness
in the ruffed grouse nest
woven placemats
and handprint turkeys
homemade Thanksgiving
closing their eyes
and bowing
getting my head
stuck in a turtleneck
polar vortex
the gale takes a plastic bag
anywhere else
***
north, south, east, west
a dart decides
their next adventure
a pub crawl
in Belfast
The Potato Famine
burying Kathleen and Mary
by their empty garden
ever the giver
she offers to be eaten first
agreeing enthusiastically
the pipevine swallowtail’s proboscis
extends
puffing up his pride
the pomp of the great argus
a child
wanders from the yozakura
to the maple grove
tapping the trees
for the pot of gold
glacial erratics
a red-bellied cooter
lurks lakeside
turning over the Barley Moon
in search of sustenance
the corn silo
brimming
with silence
sneaking jeans under skirts
Amish Halloween
flannel shirts
she digs through her dads’s
grungy past
why did Eddie Vedder even write
down the lyrics to Yellow Ledbetter?
***
her childhood diary
each page stained
with teardrops
written on the wall:
mene mene tekel upharsin¹
sparing the rod
he spoiled the child
Veruca Salt
an April thunderstorm
slams the old oak into the fence
wet shorts
from the tire swing
magnolia blossoms
the bubbles he blows
float past the horizon
sneaky girls
use mom’s hair dye
to color the eggs
we hid them all well
to get a few minutes together
but at my back
I always hear time's wingèd chariot
hurrying near²
satin blindfold and straps
Victoria’s secret
everything changes
when John Brown
grabs her horse’s reins
Come Farfelkugel³
Broomhilde’s delusion
alas,
she finds him canoodling
with a Rhinemaiden
her cheeks as bright
as the Rose Moon
***
grandma shows me
the blush
on a transparent apple
strong like Samson
seeing by faith
you’ll be surprised
how much bigger it looks
once it’s trimmed
clippers right down the middle
point of no return
“recalculating”
letting AI redirect
her life plan
ahh! a loop on the Luna mount!
you might be psychic like me!
the time knife
slices through
the Jeremy Bearimy
how do I get the tequila
out of this Klein bottle?
trying
to master filling
the Pythagorean cup
mouse whisker brushes,
soot ink, and rice paper
setting the course
for the yacht
according to Pyxis
they decide to both jump
into Waponi Woo
cigar smoke
blurred his aim
blue dress stain
dancing to Mitch Ryder
and the Detroit Wheels
***
she sidles up to him
and whispers:
$1,000 on lucky 17
honeycombs filled
with man’s number
jackdaws
storing bits of clouds
in Rosslyn Chapel
making snow cones
I shave down the Cold Moon
Alberta clipper
a fawn cowering
under hemlocks
trembling new legs
child’s first ice skate
clinking crystal glasses
the nutmeg
sloshes and settles
nine years in
he’s finally sure
candlelight
they order the chocolate soufflé
for dessert
the lightness
of the peach petals
apricot sours
the withering
of their friendship
breaking the tough stems
of wild mustard flowers
relishing the thought
of his release date
Riker’s Island
lichens on the north face
of the redwoods
***
Napa Valley stomping
can be heard all day
in Yountville
then crickets
all night
feeling alone
walking through the crowded
haunted house
the deep black lake closed
darkly over all that remained⁴
Uncle Arlington’s
cigarette ashes
easily fill his urn
a place with green grass,
dandelions, and violets
a hairstreak caterpillar
gorging on
sweet cherry blossoms
coming out of hibernation
she shaves her legs
flipping over a stone
he reveals
another world
“mom, we are out of the Milky Way,
going to the store, be right back”
1.21 gigawatts
is not nearly enough power
to open the wormhole
exploding through the doorway
a speared tentacle
husband out of town
she embraces
her octopus-lover
every 4 weeks
he orders his meat rare
***
drops of blood
singing down her neck
as dawn begins
choirs ring out
as the heavens part
hazy figures
in the distance
Hot Moon
an oasis
or Fata Morgana?
bearded dragon
in awe of the lady
at the county fair
not caring about
the lost luggage
we find ourselves
trapped inside
a caramel creme
walnuts cling
to bare branches
streaker on the field
yellow card thrown for
illegal ball handling
oxyphenbutazone
on a triple word score
three’s a crowd
she books us a
king size bed
the hospice nurses smiles
and says it’s almost over
a fox pounces
on her dinner
clear winter sky
a crack in the china plate
a limb crosses the Quiet Moon
***
only its light
divides us
frozen rill
multiple languages
not one of them home
grey and orange
under bizzarria blossoms
cats in love
fresh squeezed juice
the crunch of a June bug
Beltane
clouded sulphurs
take flight
let’s go down to the river
and get washed by the water⁵
broken glass
atop a memory
I want to forget
each piece she flung away
becomes a star
¹ Daniel 5:25 KJV
² Andrew Marvell “To His Coy Mistress”
³ “Robin Hood: Men in Tights”
⁴ Edgar Allan Poe “The Fall of House of Usher”
⁵ Joshua David Silverberg, Colby Wedgeworth, Jordan Alexander Feliz “The River”
- Details
- Written by: Rafał Zabratyński & Garry Gay
somewhere between
late winter and early spring
snowfall on snowdrops
following a monarch
through a meadow of milkweed
midsummer evening
the scent of lavender
full of kids' titter
adobe ruins
lupine growing
in the living room
deep autumn mountain heathers
catch last threads of gossamer
red spider lily
the last bee stumbles
through its petals
Rafał Zabratyński
Garry Gay
- Details
- Written by: John Thompson & Neena Singh
paired swans
forever mingling
their wakes
ripples drift
across the tranquil pond
carrying the weight
of mountains with ease…
cotton candy clouds
under the willow
dragonflies trace arcs
of a breeze
twitchy Jesus bugs
ride eddies upstream
lilies bloom
on the water’s edge
a kingfisher dives
John Thompson
Neena Singh
- Details
- Written by: Laurence Stacey & Dick Whyte
after rain
worms in the sun
reaching
the flat of a leaf
gathers dust
lake swim
my black ass touching
the moon
in this bowl of soup
my ancestors
homeless
this big Georgia sun
hits different
when worshiping nimbus!
bow first, then dance!
cicada
summer dreams
of you too
sick of waiting
i ask the river
belly
first i learn to breathe
again
hibiscus reddening
my father's silence
slow dusk
in the dragonfly's shadow
the dragon
everything aches:
even mountains
spring
arriving early . . .
for therapy
cold spell ending
the mosquitos fall
storming . . .
the friends I thought
would last
five brave sparrows
gathered at my feet
holding on
to the wrong things,
drifting clouds
hitting the squirrel
my squirrel mind stops
new leaves
between the gaps,
old gods
what she says, what I hear
the business of crows
dawn
what is a haiku?
yawn
weeds, I confront
the fascist inside
a cop car
drives into the crowd,
election year
cooler, a few birds
fleeing the state
battleworn,
the river swallows
the stone
leaving for work, I pack
my white voice
gunshots:
the sky splattered
with clouds
autumn in a world
devils go by name
in a field
once filled with wheat:
fresh corpses
sippin black tea
no sugar moon
dysregulated:
the pines uncaring
kind of care
if I could do it all over
bare feet in the grass
pre-dawn
one bird devouring
deities
my skin, darker
in the officer's gaze
the tūī
eating blossoms,
like a hokku
barely getting by
I chew on a poem
————————
Laurence Stacey
Dick Whyte
- Details
- Written by: Cynthia Anderson
deep time
whitecaps crossing
the desert floor—
snowmelt river
embracing the solace
dry wash
a bobbing rock wren
follows us
of boulders
as if a wall
could hold it back
blowing sand
- Details
- Written by: Christina Chin & Paul Callus
rising —
Sirius in the evening sky
the sun slowly sinks
a child hangs on
to its mother’s skirt
Christina Chin (Malaysia) / Paul Callus (Malta)
captured
in a celestial sphere
infinity
Serpens sheds stars
in charmer's mirror
Paul Callus (Malta) / Christina Chin (Malaysia)
- Details
- Written by: Janet Ruth
just half a moon
pale reflections
from a waxing season
this silver cup
and one shooting star
a ruined planet
datura pod burst open
on the sand
balance of night and day
now earth will tilt
back toward the sun
this burden of light
- Details
- Written by: Janet Ruth
beneath
bare cottonwood trees
my solitary walk
rush of wind
through black wings
a guttural croak
trying to imitate her voice
she sidles
along the branch
we tilt our heads
shivering
feathers to looseness
her dark throat
the same light
gleams in our eyes
raven knocks back
- Details
- Written by: Jim Chessing and Ryland Shengzhi Li
the wind kicks up
early this morning
as if hastening
to complete some solemn task
sneakers on a wire
flickers
hammering away
the hillside
awash with cloudlight
this world of appearances
her persimmon stick
polished to a high luster
fixed with a leather grip—
its tap-tap-tapping,
the last sound before sleep
a leaf
is no less than
the journeywork of the stars . . .
into the luminous river
her lantern goes
her voice
in the whitewater
a twilight mosquito
buzzes in and out
of what might have been
folding the sheets
in the winter dusk
pleat
upon pleat
this well-worn life
- Details
- Written by: Ryland Shengshi Li and Jim Chessing
river of stars
bridging ocean
and heavens
his ten thousand journeys
in this great blue world
once he dreamed
of being an astronaut
the first to Mars . . .
one turn led to another
and now he just dreams
a trail
of cabbage whites
across the meadow
cut grasses
will sprout again
quiet now
as the swing soars
higher and higher
he plots the moment
to jump
one by one
a thousand colors
are set free
into the vesper wind
a mockingbird sings
through all the seasons
it always comes to this:
the persimmon
blanketing the yard
with the last of its leaves
(The title comes from the poem of the same name by Edna St. Vincent Millay, which was first published in 1912.)
- Details
- Written by: Mariko Kitakubo and Deborah P Kolodji
longing
is always lonely sky...
under
the jacaranda
fireworks finale
far away and yet…
the meteor shower
lights up the sky
Mariko Kitakubo
Deborah P Kolodji
(2024.7.1)
Mariko writes:
This is the one of our last Tan-Ku set published in Colorado Boulevard.net.
I subconsciously wrote something that predicted her death, and she responded kindly to it.
I will continue to live with her spirit, supported by our eternal bond.
- Details
- Written by: Mariko Kitakubo and Deborah P Kolodji
abandoned
at the end
of the world
you are forgotten
sunshine seeds
lashes flutter
as I dream
golden poppies
quiet
colors of dawn
on the packet
the disabled artist
opens my eyes
morning light
I reach for a pair
of gardening gloves
my rebirth
in the early summer
breeze…
Invisible tiny lives
in a soft lump of soil
planted
in the rich earth
I long for your blooms
Mariko Kitakubo
Deborah P Kolodji
- Details
- Written by: Mariko Kitakubo and Deborah P Kolodji
without talk
just smiles for each other
two beach chairs
at sunset
we need nothing
lull tide
two gulls skim
the horizon
under
the cloud-shaped
angel,
standing on the dune
I believe in miracles
the music of the sea
calms my weary spirit
footprints in the sand
what
am I searching for...
following
the tracks
seabirds leave
land’s end
our eyes on the lighthouse
against the clouds
Mariko Kitakubo
Deborah P Kolodji
- Details
- Written by: Mariko Kitakubo and Deborah P Kolodji
what did he
stammer
that night
super blue moon
over the Balkans
summer evening
the clarity
of my hearing aid
sometimes
better not to know
everything...
the lilies of the field
the birds of the air
butterflies flitter
flower to flower
dreams
the lost
continent,
Greater Adria
transparent wings
of giant dragonflies
plucking petals
from a daisy
my own evolution
Mariko Kitakubo
Deborah P Kolodji
- Details
- Written by: Mariko Kitakubo and Deborah P Kolodji
changing
trains to return
home ...
long railway
through grasslands
midnight silence
the sound of a far off
air whistle
I can't remember
the name of the bridge...
still playing
hide and seek
with mom's ghost
bare hills
my mother’s stories
about the troop train
the door
opens and closes
so many faces...
departure bell
for my life ,again
Cabernet Sauvignon
I sit in the dining car
alone
Mariko Kitakubo
Deborah P Kolodji
- Details
- Written by: Rodney Williams
homesick in exile
taken south under sail
a song thrush lilts
through fluting rolling trills...
across the lane Irish reels
a black cat’s hiss
in this overgrown yard –
blooms purple
berries glossy and dark
nightshade looking deadly
among Jersey cows
outside a deer farm’s tall fence
one Sambar doe...
hands tremble sharing papers
with migration officials
rufous fox
not curbed by hen-house wire
or baying hounds
its coat too red this morning
cunning no match for a car
eucalypts clear-felled
for potatoes and sheep –
kangaroos long gone
from this meadow at dusk
where first harvesters dug yams
Rodney Williams
- Details
- Written by: Chen-ou Liu
my love grasps the thread
of her breath from the edge
of orgasm
she spins, spinning it
into a passion story
love after love
we exhaust each other –
in her heart
swirls something dark
in a space I cannot see
Chen-ou Liu
- Details
- Written by: Praniti Gulyani
war drama…
a curtain of fingers
over my baby’s eyes
plastic gun…
even the ants
stop and smirk
first uniform…
his shirt wrinkled
like my forehead
gunshot…
how closely connected
this bougainvillea
war memorial…
choosing the flowers
that seem to cry
cleaning his gun…
now I converse
with fallen dust
soldier’s boots…
the edges of his soles
criss-crossed with life
uniform pockets…
by a crumpled cigarette
bits of conversation
closing tombstone…
a curtain of fingers
over my eyes
Praniti Gulyani
- Details
- Written by: Lakshman Bulusu & Amoolya Kamalnath
lyre notes without pause -
the summer breeze carries
me on the ocean
the whipped cream
topping on my cold coffee
slushy fruit punch
icing down my throat
as I swallow it
refreshed children
queue for the roller-coaster
at the water park
sunrise to sunset
sfumato of my daydreams
still climbing
the rainbow to reach
the perfect home
Lakshman Bulusu
Amoolya Kamalnath
- Details
- Written by: Charles Trumbull & Rafał Zabratyński
truckers’ cafe
a night waitress wipes the crumbs
from the counter
the red dragon tattoo guy's
one more last scotch on the rocks
final call—
rousing the groggy barfly
in the corner booth
24/7 sign
wee hours between night owls
and early birds
the streetwalker’s long shadow—
a merchant sweeps in the dawn
stray cat's yawn
a waste picker drinks up
the unfinished beer
Charles Trumbull
Rafał Zabratyński
- Details
- Written by: Xenia Tran
can I slow down
what time we’re given
to greet mouse-tail moss
the speckled wood who warms
her wings after the rain
a shaft of light
through long shadows
you trace a line
where ghosts of me
still hug the elder tree
mist curtains
one side of the shed
free from light
redshank sleeps whose gold
only the dead can see
an inner sun rises
where cherry blossom blooms
before the moon gate
roots are lined
with tamarisk moss
we weep
to be reminded
of such beauty
and sing of butterflies
no longer here
- Details
- Written by: Pamela Garry
glossy buttercups
under their chins
first base
knockout rose
on the brink of blooming
armed with thorns
a bissel vow
chrysanthemum in her hair
full of promise
first-time grandparents
playing peekaboo
crocuses in snow
green shoots
betwixt brittle twigs
passing the torch
wildflowers
about the grassy knoll
swaying with the wind
- Details
- Written by: Gwen Bitti and Marilyn Humbert
wrapped in
a merino shawl
I watch
forked lightning sprint
across a smudged sky
hiding
lies behind smiles
the games
he plays quick-stepping
through each day
uncovering
truth in each charade
the scent
of charred embers
imbued with sorrow
sunshine slants
between window slats
the changing
patterns through each day…
time to consider choices
the river
alters old channels…
in relentless ebb and flow
embraces
new pathways
a flood
after weeks of rain
brings regeneration…
I lock the front door
and move interstate
Gwen Bitti and Marilyn Humbert
- Details
- Written by: Samantha Sirimanne Hyde & Marilyn Humbert
meandering
onto a hidden path
an unexpected trove…
vibrant blue belongings
of a male satin bowerbird
buttress roots
entangle my feet
camouflage
lacy mushroom clumps
mosses and lichen
raindrops
trickle off eucalypts
specking the track
smudged paw prints
etched along my way
watchful eyes
in the undergrowth
the prickles
of known and unknown
dangers…wandering alone
sundown
chant of night insects
intensifying...
the glow of a campfire
a welcome distraction
a powerful owl’s
haunting call echoes
through the gloom…
you pass me my navy scarf
a gift from last year’s trip
Samantha Sirimanne Hyde & Marilyn Humbert
- Details
- Written by: Danny Blackwell and Tim Murphy
at the crack of dawn
a rooster crowing far away . . .
the last days of winter
waking from a jetlag dream
the sound of cats in love
flowers falling
from the Judas tree
memories of childhood
gazing into the rock pool
scent of fish and chips
cold moon dipping
behind the hills, the horizon
seems to draw nearer
crunched snow glitters in the night
approaching the warmth of indoors
*
flushing away
the last bag of speed
one day clean
a mind flooded with dark thoughts
standing at the crossroads again
the blues guitarist
solos with a broken string
to roaring applause
above the river delta
clouds drifting out to sea
catching the red-eye
my mind wanders until you
point out the flight map
on a forest bike trail
tonguing the autumn rain
the snake awaiting
its prey, a stick in the spokes
makes the world happen
grumble of a wild boar
the archer checks his quiver
a corn tortilla,
the last one in the basket,
is it you or me
first picnic of the year —
three with the sun and my shadow
cherry blossoms
a lone swan swims past
the river bank
upon arrival, the trees
already bare: April fools
at the train station
the trash can fills up
with shiny sweet wrappers
vapor escaping the bamboo steamer
of the busy bao stall
first light
missing her
breathing
tamping the coffee with a spoon
the way you used to do
summer rain
I cook for two, lay the table for two,
then eat alone
the line of ants marching on
from where to where I know not
supermarket
a homeless man
speaks of the Bible
antediluvian conspiracies;
a leak in the roof
a lounge lizard
swims another length
of the hotel pool
sunning itself on a rock
the bush clover's shadow
harvest moon
in Madrid, longing for
Madrid
vile garrote at his neck
the bandit Luis Candelas
*
two girls argue
over who puts the collar
on the puppy
baptized baby's gibberish
drowning out clumsy Latin
in the distance
the sound of an explosion
motionless mime
the willows burst under the fireworks
then return to darkness
cherry blossoms
landing on the cabbage
a white butterfly
the child’s kite swoops
back towards the hilltop
Danny Blackwell and Tim Murphy
- Details
- Written by: Joanna Ashwell
moon jar
another seed pod
digging deeper
the labyrinth’s promise
I fold a wish
the weightlessness
of paper sails
over the horizon
in your smile
showing me
the way forward
magnolia buds
Joanna Ashwell
- Details
- Written by: Lorraine Haig
in the storm
clouds’ charcoal fingers
touch the sea
I set out into night
to reach the unknown
the boat
has sunk and I’m adrift
on a raft
you float past me
in the arms of a stranger
are my dreams
a collage of memories
I’m a gypsy
content to wander
the vastness of the mind
Lorraine Haig
- Details
- Written by: Lorraine Haig
amid the trees
my back against this giant
how I wish
my life could be here
with the ferns and mosses
dense silence
among the old ones
may my arms
become branches, my feet
send down their roots
a velvet night
and my pulse slows
I look up
to the canopy
and a shimmer of stars
in the temple
of leaves light filters
to the floor
let the bark of my body
change with the seasons
tread lightly
as the forest has ears
I listen
to the wallabies
jump through shadows
my lungs fill . . .
the mountain’s breath
tumbles
down the ridges
into the sound of water
Lorraine Haig