The Valley [Haibun]

Down the valley, the green oasis fades into wind-swept sand dunes, dunes like those seen in Arabia, but smaller and bounded by the mountains. The shrubs and tufts of grass obey no sharp boundary with the dunes, but rather meander into and out of the neighboring ecosystem. Sand and camels at 12,000 feet, ranges away from the sea, but once upon a time...  

high altitude
valley -- strange worlds squeezed
between two mountains 

POEM: The Fair Midway [PoMo Day 29 – Symbolist]

midways announce themselves at a distance
jangly music discords with organ toots
arc lamp light and spastic dancing colors
but i find myself there dream-style swift

my disorientation is complete
i can't tell color from sound / it's all loud
nothing is in focus because all is in motion
neon red is a shard of electronic music

my eyes dart about looking to rest on something painless
my ears try to hold just one tune from the cacophony 
twinkly music runs my spine as I wonder how a god
could deal with all the voices, all those voices, at once

POEM: The River Running through this City

I roam the old city,
gazing at Gothic gargoyles
and touching stonework
made by men long since dead,

wondering how I ended up 
in this chunk of time, 
rather than 

one in which 
this land was all just 
forest or marshland,


one in which
we all wait amid the rubble
to blast off 
to some secondary hive of humanity.

DAILY PHOTO: Danubius Fountain Sculpture, Budapest

Taken in December of 2019 in Budapest’s Erzsebet Ter

POEM: Last Sunflower Standing

I saw a field — once sunflowers —

now reaped at harvest time.

Just stiffened stalks and wrinkled leaves,

and one head past its prime.

Those glorious yellow petals,

drooping — facing the ground,

were the only way I knew the

crop that’d been mowed down.

How sad to be a survivor

who lives by a bowed head

once the ones that faced the sun

have joined the newly dead.