April 22, 2014

The strange birds,
migrating, stop in
our yard for

some seed.

#napowrimo #poem #poetry #haiku-plus

April 21, 2014

Bright sky, blank
as a sheet of paper,
perhaps waiting
to be origami-
folded, or cut with verse.

#napowrimo #poem #poetry #tanka

April 20, 2014

Won’t the sun
wake and cast his eye
upon us

through the grey?

#napowrimo #poem #poetry #haiku-ish

April 19, 2014

We wait
for the rain to end.
Our bodies grow restless.

You press yourself
to me, searching for warmth.
The rain continues.

#napowrimo #poem #poetry

April 19, 2014

At night, the cats
move through the unbroken
dark, pause to eat.

#napowrimo #poem #poetry #haiku

April 17, 2014

Another storm,
a flash too easily
remembered.
You turn from the window
as the rumbling builds.

#napowrimo #poem #poetry #tanka

April 16, 2014

In half-light, our
cat kneads the black blanket—
pressing and
alternating paws,
sharing her cruel gift.

#napowrimo #poem #poetry #tanka

April 15, 2014

Half-awake
as lightning-kissed windows
briefly reveal
pattern and form and then
back to our black dawn.

#napowrimo #poetry #poem #tanka

April 14, 2014

Sweeping years
of leaves from the roof—
half-composted—
the metal crevices
ready for planting.

#napowrimo #poem #poetry #tanka #adaybehind

April 12, 2014
Alert

At daybreak, a ‘possum
roots through seeds fallen

in the grass beneath
our bird feeder. You sneak

around the house with a camera
to catch him at it—

digging for scavenged
breakfast, face pointed

to earth, light streaming
through tree-choking vines

and branches of the young
Japanese maple. At daybreak,

cable news traces
mysteries as dictated by viewer

ratings and demographics
and towed pinger locators,

bodies perhaps never to be found
at any depth. You’re far away,

camera snapping pictures
across the expanse of grass

and our pine-needle strewn zen
garden, and the ‘possum

moves on, his black eyes
looking for the next

breaking story.


#napowrimo #poetry #poem #possum