Archive for February, 2019
Source: Daily Haiku: Feb. 27, 2019 | Charlotte Digregorio’s Writer’s Blog
Crossing America
I.
We hitchhiked America. I
still think of her.
I walk the old streets thinking I
see her, but never.
New buildings have gone up.
The bartenders who poured roses
into our glasses are gone.
We are erased.
II.
Minook, Illinois,
one street out of nowhere through cornstalks.
Winter clutched the cornfields into Chicago.
Cold, we couldn’t get in out of the cold.
But a lonely filling station owner risked
letting his death in out of the night.
I lay on his gas station floor and let her
use me for a bed.
I will never forget the cold into
my kidneys or lying awake bearing the
pain while she slept like a two month
old child on the hill of its mother’s tit.
It was on the stone floor
that I knew I loved her.
___________________________
just a portion of this excellent long poem by
Leo Connellan
Crossing America
Penmen Press, 1976
Ingrid Bruck
spring duet
snowmelt
earth exhales
green fingers
earth inhales
blooming daffodil
slips down a mole hole
acorn grows
choking and spitting dirt
topples the stone fence
Source: March, 2019 – Otata
hurt land
natural laws
limit
self-regulate, know
being becomes
dendrites stretch forth
explore through feeling
for
interre-
late, sustain
nothing
does not exist
Donna Fleischer
Solitary Plover issue 29 Winter 2019
Late this morning through into early afternoon we walk. Out from the back of the house up into Woodhouse and then to Quorn.. back home through Woodthorpe.
this watery sun
an elderly Chinese man
sings into the mist
He has a little girl with him about three years old. His voice is strong. Years later she will remember walking hand in hand with her grandad in the English countryside his voice ringing out in Chinese for her, the birds, the sheep and the trees.
Paul Conneally
Loughborough
February 2019
Source: This Watery Sun | Burn The Water
To a mountain village
at nightfall on a spring day
I came and saw this:
blossoms scattering on echoes
from the vespers bell.
Nōin (988 – c. 1050) (translated by Steven Carter), in Steven Carter, Traditional Japanese Poetry: An Anthology (Stanford University Press 1991), page 134.
Source: First Known When Lost
word pond 