Our unlikely friendship

Sun sets at La Jolla Shores. Nov 14, 2014.
Sun sets at La Jolla Shores. Nov 14, 2014.

Each farewell different
the aching darkness stretches
and cowers as Gaia hurtles through
crushing void
seasons turn, reign, die, go back
into the queue

What is a sunburn, but
affirmation that we are alive
due to our unlikely friendship
with an enormous, raging
orb

its inner chaos giving rise
to spring daffodils and year-round
humanity

Thick-set sentinels

forest

A thousand winters
come and gone
thick-set sentinels no longer pay
each more than casual attention;
snowmelt slides downslope,
each rivulet latches to newly-found
kin
their meandering journey to
water’s grand community
has begun

Drinking deep, the soil
run through with the needle gifts
of geriatric conifers
each new sprout could,
if lucky,
grow as old and numb
as the sentinel trees
their roots ground into
the forest floor.

Monuments to the living

I wended my way

along a path-

in what place and time I do not know.

At once the boulevards of Roman glory

then rutted roads, turned to

slop in monsoon rains.

 

The trees burgeoning

a hundred million buds bursting forth

in thunderous applause.

The trees waving, radiant

in the summer solstice sun

The trees, grown cold

as time vitrifies their bark

and all that remains are

monuments to the living.

Tanka 01

I’m an avid reader of wePoets Show It, a poetry blog that runs various creative events for poetry, flash fiction, and spoken word performance. Their monthly poetry contest¬†focuses on Tanka, a form that’s basically a haiku with two 7-syllable lines at the end.

I haven’t written haikus for a serious purpose in over a decade- when I wrote haikus in third grade, the positive reception led to me continuing to write poetry to this day. That being said, I have mostly focused on free verse (with the odd old-fashioned set of rhymed quatrains thrown in), and am badly out of practice with a rigid poetry form. The final Tanka I submit will not be posted here, but what I have written for practice will. Here’s my first swing:

The evergreen tree
hides among the now-lush grove
When seasons change and
maples flash brilliant, then
fall silent, it remains, green.

Judging by this first day, I will have far more scraps than completed Tanka, but the challenge appears to be healthy. I’m enjoying it.