Desert Haiku

offset prints
bisected by tail drag
lizard sign


gnarled driftwood,
snake skin, rusty barbed wire
in red sand


cold morning,
the rising fire ball,
a silent knell


red sandstone
warmed by the rising sun
gorge aglow


yon mirage
mirror-clear blue,
chase the lie

Haiku on Music


 

listless drift
metronomic mast sweeps
the sea’s mute tune

 

snapping flags
halyard and hook ting the pole
spastic anthem

 

creek burble
amid the cedars
stream unseen

 

cave echoes
nothing that moves by sight
avoids bumped head

 

empty bars
rarely known in nature
end robustly

DAILY PHOTO: Kashmiri Tarns

Taken in August of 2016 on the Sonamarg – Naranag Trail.

POEM: Orange Jelly Fungus

Its alien orange gleamed across a mid-winter forest.

The only thing — save shamrock green moss girding the base of trees — that begged attention in that silent, decaying woods.

Its globule nature desiccated into angularity,

adding to its alien claim,

and it shone with every orange a flame can throw.

The guide said you were edible,

but, seeing your flaming colors,

I could never convince myself that you wouldn’t taste of orange jelly enough to not spit you out on the ground.

Besides, I won’t say you’ve seen better days,

but you’ve seen less alien days.