My photo
Cape Cod, United States
__I see with young eyes, an old mirror. Here, I hope to offer... as I see.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Watching, is trouble free.

night breeze
with her kittens in a row
the skunk

Monday, April 27, 2009

Water Face

_I scribbled a short story years ago: At the native clan's summer camp, a Mahican child saw his reflection in the river's pool; through accumulated summers, the river's pool never changed... but his face never stopped... . This sedoka, (some may not call it that,) as a condensation of that story, was posted on 11/11/07 at .
_Janice's most recent post "reflected" this memory... though now, it has become somewhat "edited."

of this river pool
a mahican sees his face
in its roaming course

of that water face
this child of spirits reasons
he may never know

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Good afternoon!

new dance
with every raindrop...
the fern

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

We are away for a few days, and the wireless link there can be a matter of chance.
This, for my Grandaughter.

eyes open
her rag doll tries to sleep
counting stitches

Monday, April 20, 2009

As inspired by Nora's haiku of yesterday; one wonders... who planted this tree, and who that bird might be.

this pear tree
in blossoms of memory
a bird tends

Saturday, April 18, 2009

the wine of closing days
a last sip

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

_To the lighter side. Three Octobers ago, my wife and I passed this gate sign in the New England state of New Hampshire; I scribbled this. Perhaps they'll be -open- soon?

gate sign
this road to a nudist camp...
-clothed- for the season

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

bird songs...
in my day's purse
their coins

Sunday, April 12, 2009

willow shadow
and in this tangled hair
a duck combs

Thursday, April 9, 2009

From this point, in the tag line, -n- refers to newly written.

in her wake
again he follows...
the swan

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

A sallow, subliminal attempt at some humor... from the old nursery rhyme, "and the cow jumped over the moon."

a fish jump
breaks the night's quiet
over the moon

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Sipping tea or port, friends passing words around and across the evening's campfire.

its sweet woodsmoke rises
through the words

Saturday, April 4, 2009

my fingers recite
this therapy of the keys
as my tired mind wanders
to yesterday's duet

Thursday, April 2, 2009


warm rain
cymbals through the trees
this drum