i will play a rhapsody

Note: I am not Burton Cummings.

only trust your heart

summer tea haiku

summer crescent moon smile
June twenty first forever
silent porch shared tea


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I'm writing again

summer crescent moon smile
June twenty first forever
silent porch swing kiss

good night

"Goodnight, Son".
He reposed his head deeper in the pillow. Outside...the wind crackled a dead limb, snapping it clean off a giant tree where 3 startled sparrows, Winkin, Blinkin, and Nod, lighted and circled the two-storied bungalow twice, pausing briefly in respect at the shuttered window ledge of the barren room of grandma. They were joined momentarily by swirling fireflies dreaming of Summer. The dream was over, fireflies accept that fate in life and in death. Nod, with broken wing, trailed the others and settled once more in the nest of the rotted eaves and called in the night.
"Goodnight, Mama".

spirit, do not forsake me

forsaken shadows
warm-hearted winters long ago
old christmas past haunts


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lonely runner

Recently finished The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner, by Alan Sillitoe, and it got me to thinking about school track teams. So I went back to some old school glossy-page yearbooks, and if you look closely, football players and even chess players stand shoulder-to-shoulder in team photos, smiles set and hair combed. But when you look at the track team, some of them have tucked in buttoned shirts and hard shoes, and even the coach, my shop teacher, seems out of place looking off into the distance thinking about his 12th cup of coffee before my hour in his woodshop coming up at 3pm. The track team looks harried like they all got together just a few seconds before the photo was snapped. No squares jaws and no toothy smiles. Nobody cheered these poor guys on. How would that have worked anyway? Would the cheerleaders have run 50 yards ahead to make a human pyramid and called out a corny cheer? Or maybe they piled into an old Volkswagen and puttered ahead just to setup. I don't know. Probably not. I think the long distance runners truly were lonely, out there on uneven back roads with their papered number attached to their shirt flapping in the breeze, and maybe that was best, since they probably threw up in the third mile because they were told not to eat before the event anyway.

soul cake box directions

joyous heart gesture
chocolate garnished in chocolate
slice for each beloved



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No sour notes

adieu, Desiree
Dark clouds will always part from
Your summer song Smile

tax due haiku

Depreciated
Wallet longing second wind
No Spring fun refund



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Buds haiku

Desiree nurtures
Blooming buds, three and seven
Roses need their rain

for Desiree and her Buds, Valentines Day '17

La Sonate à Kreutzer

La Sonate à Kreutzer
by René-Xavier Prinet (1901)
oil on canvas

The Front

a true thousand points of light

He waved his hand like a magic wand, and said, let there remain a thousand jobs, and let us be Great Again, and it was. And it was good.