Haiku #49

Life does not begin;
It births buds and crosses skins.
In places, death thins.


The Insistent Wind

Has briskly pinned
My hands inside my pockets.
The distant sun
Is having fun
Ignoring our annoyance.
And close at hand,
The impatient land
Is mad to meet its lovers.

Changing Everything

“Metamorphosis occurs through passion.”
–Ernesto Grassi

When memory submits to speech
Your face, your flesh, your eyes sublime,
When words become a mental bleach
That cleanses color and poisons rhyme,

Appears the sweetened gasoline
That fires my lies and purifies
The words become a vivid scene
That burns our pretense down to size.

When we wake from our sweaty daze,
Your face is different, your eyes afraid;
When silence drifts between us, a haze
That moistens our intentions and the clay

Of our sad, earthen arms.
When did we become
so heavy
with the weight
of plans,
so heavy
with the freight
of joy?