Seasons and Moons: poems and haiku
Seasons and Moons
Mid-August/Not quite a Haiku
The shorter days spread coolness
over the earth;
half a lifetime of memories,
sorrow across my chest.
Haiku for September 3, 2011
The front came through; I
my summer dresses.
First Week of September
The windows are closed;
of winter descends.
This Year’s Harvest
There weren’t many
I found some, gave some.
in the sun, then in
my hands, sun-
shine warming my palms.
My Mynion/October 2011
The cat who won't leave my side
The Christmas Cactus full of buds
The recording of a Bruckner Symphony
The air in my lungs
The quiet of the early morning
A letter from far away
The tree full of yellow leaves
The music that comes out of my fingers
The sun off the Lake
The picture from long ago --
With these as my companions, I proceed in prayer.
5:00 p.m. in the kitchen,
and there it is:
the last of the day’s light,
straining around the tilt of the earth,
through the newly bared tree branches.
I never notice this in the summer.
The sun comes up;
The sun goes down.
But today, the sunset stops me.
I am content to stand in the middle of the kitchen,
staring out the window above the sink.
When I was young,
I never noticed my heart beating,
and I assumed there would be love and affection enough
to affirm its activity.
Now I am silenced and brought to tears
in the face of Love’s tenacious presence.
The sun still rose ov-
er the vast
body of water.
…that subtle shift: a little higher, a little longer, a little brighter--
like those long abandoned prayers that are subtly answered,
and we find our fragile, tender longings
tended to with courtesy and intimacy
Winter was Hard
The winter you were born was hard.
My cousin was in a car accident, spent two weeks in a coma and
twenty four weeks in a body cast;
I saw my father drag my mother across the floor by her hair and
beat my brother in the living room.
I had pneumonia, spent months sleeping on stacked pillows, so
I could breath and lost weight
because the infected phlegm coated my taste buds.
The winter I met you was in the middle of a string of hard winters.
After years of stress and loss, my body finally rebelled,
making my days a succession of humiliations, constant pain , and
Sometimes the weather makes winter hard.
There is so much relentless snow and ice and cold;
I bury the seed catalogues under old newspapers, keep the
gardening tools in the basement, and when my students
ask me, “How many days ‘til Spring?” I tell them that
I’m not counting.
No matter how hard the winter’s been, there always comes a day
when the sun is higher in the sky and
the wrappings of January seem too warm –
Like hearing a voice on the phone again and again, reminding me
that I am not dead and of
the sweetness of being alive.
In the Air
Lilacs perfume and
grace the days
in the month of May.
Lilacs flourish in
No Bird Signs –
For months: no blue jays,
doves, herons –
then came the New Moon.
New Moon’s Message
No dream this month; in-
stead, a hawk
flew past the window.
Spice of Life
New moon in the Ninth
House: I bought