the plaintive calls

in this temporary lull…

in the stall that passes for a quiet pause…

the sigh between stoplights winking…

through another relentless rumbling evening rush,
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i can hear the faint… the plaintive calls.

like memories echoing down narrow windowed canyon walls

a slow whitened silhouette a blur above rooftops,

entrails across the smoke dark shroud of sky.
.
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a lone seagull…

aloft in her weightless circles calling…

pleading our cause that carnivorous Winter release

it’s talon grip on our weathered psyches.
.
.
this colossal metropolis

frayed and weary along its steely margins,

holding a collective breath praying for relief

for signs our resolve has slain the beast.
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to be home… and warm is a primal lure

and cars have little patience for an inconvenient reverie,

but i have witnessed Spring’s first inland gull

and believe her plea was not in vain.
.
.
heartened and invigorated now,

windows down i invite the viper wind

to hiss his last stinging breaths on my skin

and tangle my hair as i drive.

the why of rain


the why of rain
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.
.
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and sitting here
alone and content
at the worn wooden picnic table
just beyond the kitchen of our farmhouse,
sipping a glass of homemade iced tea.

in this quiet i hear
the soft clattering of
dinner dishes being cleaned,
and the voices of those i love
finding their way to my ears

and to my heart
from the half open window above the sink.
…now a steady pattering of raindrops through the trees.
how i so readily accept the why of rain
here on the farm, because

there are no
umbrellas parked in the foyer
and no scurrying for cover
to dodge every drop. i’ve
decided instead

to enjoy being wet. closing these eyes
i savor and absorb these warming drops,
as they dot my arms
and soak my hair.
i’ll agree

nod in approval with
this year’s crop, the budding
soybean plants who sustain our farm
when in unison whisper,
‘there is never a nuisance in the rain.’
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108

in black and white…Haiku

maybe i’m ‘old school’
or just an anomaly,
i have a soft spot

my knees go weak for,
black and white photography.
color spells it out,

but somethin’ about
using imagination
to fill in the blanks….

’cause i see green waves
in those endless summer eyes
my mind is drifting…
.
.
download
.
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that white stretch of sand…
embracing warm on our skin…
watching the sun climb

up a cloudless sky…
whispers as you slept…are they
words i long to hear?

i had to listen,
so i eavesdropped while you dreamt.
now i’m wondering…

secretly yearning
when waves roll into night, will
you whisper again?
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images (44)
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so i finally took the leap into the abyss, a poem in Haiku form.
a first attempt, a daydream, a reverie with special meaning to me.
the photo is a stock image i happen to like a lot.