I
treed monkeys —
each set of roving eyes
finds its own mark
II
a squirrel sniffs,
smelling the plump acorn
beneath damp leaves
III
a housecat
stalks prey, tiger-like,
no-mind / tail-mind
Three Animal Haiku
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Tag Archives: poetry
POEM: Crow in a Combative Stance
metallic beak —
rough striations worn smooth
like rough iron, burnished
feet planted wide–
one fore & one back,
in a combative stance
head low —
beak pointed accusatorily,
swiveling to resettle the eye
then, with flapping wings,
it’s gone
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POEM: Raptor Rising [Sonnet]
A raptor climbs: it spirals higher and higher,
and what a chunk of world it must now see.
What’s it like to be that vanishing flyer?
Does it feel fear, or does it glide with glee?
It fears like one who knows not what could be.
Like Icarus, it’s naïve of the Fall?
It must know (but not care,) to be that free!
There’s not a chance its flapping wings will stall,
and still less that it will be downed by squalls.
I envy hawks, but could not live their life —
to test air that couldn’t fill my lungs at all
and climb to heights, yet not know any strife.
Oh climb, my Raptor, ride upon thin air,
and when you reach the earth, I’ll meet you there.
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POEM: No Offense, Mr. Mosquito
Source: Wikipedia (Public Domain)
Hey there, Mr. Mosquito,
‘fraid to say, you’ve gotta go.
Sure, Black Death is on the flea,
but you’ve bought us fevers: Yellow, Nile, and Dengue.
And that’s just to name a few.
You’ve killed more folks than anything in the zoo.
There’s Malaria, Zika, and Encephalitis
that make you feel you’ve crossed a bus crash with arthritis.
I’ve never been to Rift Valley or the West Nile;
yet I fear their fevers but not their crocodiles.
Because, like Amazon, you deliver
a thousand miles from the river.
So, I guess I’ll go and get my shots,
and if our paths cross — expect some swats.
Cause when it comes to blood-sucking creatures,
I’d rather have leaches in my breeches.
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Limerick of Slovenia
There was a brown bear from Slovenia
who had a bad case of anemia.
While his kin were vegetarian,
he ate campers and carrion —
Hope you don’t meet the iron-shy bear of Slovenia.
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POEM: The Ekstasis of a Warm Bed [in a Cold, Snowy Land]
-To watch powder cling to sill and muntin through the frosted panes,
but not be chilled by that crisp whiteness
-To slacken on the back of spastic release – lulled by discordant heartbeats,
while feeling that they — and all — are in perfect accord
-To drift into slumber with no urgency and to awaken noncommittally,
sinking ever deeper into mattress and mind
-To love the snow for its beauty
as much as for its lack of reach
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POEM: Sitting Beside a River
to sit beside a river
is to be Still
amid a moving world
a sweet break
from being that which moves
through the world
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Three River Haiku
I
from a tree’s shade,
i admire bright, blue skies —
sunlight shimmers
II
washer-woman,
sitting at the river’s edge,
envying flow
III
foggy river
its far bank hazy,
a duck quacks
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POEM: Plummeting Arrow [Triolet]
That arrow can’t be meant for me
though it plummets toward my chest.
This is no time to turn and flee —
that arrow can’t be meant for me.
If I ran now, who would I be —
one of the crowd, just like the rest.
That arrow can’t be meant for me
though it plummets toward my chest.
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POEM: Lulled into the End Times
The criers are calling, “The End is nigh!”
as boats are languidly rolling offshore.
Their sway, it sings a kind of lullaby,
and by rocket glare, I begin to snore.
No one has slept through a world war before,
and though I might well die before waking,
I will be spared the futile bellyaching.
