cinquain: aurora



purple, green

rippling, dancing, glowing

spirits to our ancestors



–photo by my son, aaron

haiku 70


when land meets the sea

he must form a good shoreline–

or his name is mud

–photo by me



I lay here on my lawn chair

Out in the merciless sun,

Too hot to move to the shade.

The shimmering air is still,

And I’m actually being cooked

alive in this backyard oven.

I’m sizzling like a sausage.

The meat is done and ready

To slide right off my bones.

I’m going to spontaneously

Combust any second now.

Detonation is imminent–

Wait! Suddenly a breeze!

A lovely, lovely, breeze!

I am saved by the wind.

Don’t leave, lovely breeze.

Come back! Tell your friends!

I am back in the fiery pit.

I am wilted.


–Photo by me