March 2016

breath pause . . .
a moment's suspension
in monotones
autumn rain . . .
I write myself out
of my haiku

a race memory relaxes into its present tense

morning light
a good day to die
to oneself

there where i am no longer

autumn morn . . .
a monarch rises up
its gibbet
after the fall
fifty shades
of pink
autumn rise . . .
rustles of the past
in the wind
wine-dark eyes . . .
across a drunken sea
purpling grapes
t(w)ittering behind
fanned fingers
on cue
a line-up
of falling leaves
a leaf
alert at last
in autumn rain
all in all
an ocean washes up
in birth cries
left behind
a prophetic utterance
of its ending
step by step
we continue on

a dream I make of the just now

now and then
I become the wake 
I leave behind
all at sea
a wine drop dark
to its soul
until her smile
just a universe
on edge
my pen tip at odds
with my words