So thirsty, the soil sits, with its tongue hanging out; waiting for the rains

#SundayHaiku response #smallpoems #clmooc for Algot

something planted long ago something long gone to seed something you wanted something you no longer need something you forgot something you no longer believe something someone gifted something under something lifted something you woke up hearing something sung as you slept something you witnessed, bearing something you thought you’d kept something – nothing – anything; just another poem among weeds in the dirt: turned, tilled, loved, hurt

#smallpoems response to Terry

Quiet now: let winds bring the scent of flowering trees to where you are

#smallpoems #SundayHaiku response #clmooc

There’s almost no way not to lean in, not to be drawn in toward the flower buds, changing, on this tree all tilted, slanted, crooked in the soil, the Earth’s root-hold ever so precarious but forever beautiful

#poemsofpresence #smallpoems

Listening to Blake Mills

I’m leaning in as near as I can to follow your voice, the sounds of the room where you record: fingers on the frets, a shuffle in your seat, someone wanders beyond the door, the more my eyes close to be there, the more I am

#poemsofpresence #smallpoems

Stillness settles in, a slow unwinding; Maybe we’re finding stillness, settling in

#PoemsofPresence #smallpoems

Writing words on fiber as thin as gossamer lace, you will need imagination as much as ink as much as air as much as grace, for here, poems sink into folds of translucent tengujo only to appear again in shadowed light


After reading fascinating piece about the world’s thinnest paper: tengujo

I'm looking as she's reaching, fingertips for the solitary snowflake,

a floating apparition in the early Springtime sun,

but then it's gone before we even notice what it is we were watching when we were watching this

a trace of hope; a lover's kiss

— a #smallpoems for Slice of Life (a March blogging challenge to focus on small moments)

the soldier huddles, inside a blanket - the mother shuttles, kids inside a car - the store-keep shuffles, cards like cash - the preacher stumbles, talks of a crash - the teacher rumbles, writes, forever fast

this place, bound up in colliding stories

all of us; not alone, not alone, but home


— for CLMOOC (theme: Home)

In this space of two, of me and you, and every lamb and ewe, we find our way forward into the day, nary a network in sight, for night covers these strange connections that hold us together

a #smallpoems inspired by @tellio post for #clmooc