Sunday, September 02, 2007


from Mary Oliver, Spiritus 6 (2006).

It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but a doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

haiku tries:

Mexican poppies
lean against a bamboo fence,
pink mouths swallow rain.

While the feral cat
eats from my dish, I can gaze
at its wildness.

Snow in the summer -
Cottonycushion Scale
floating on sun rays.

No comments: