11.30.2010

november is gone -

the month that never was.  just . . .

evaporated

11.29.2010

notes dancing about

little footprints on the page

leaping into song

11.28.2010

voices blend as one

with great power and beauty to

express timeless truths

11.27.2010

a warm home, a meal

shared with family - we are

giving thanks indeed!

11.26.2010

fountain trickling

surprised by the sudden freeze

droplets suspended

Thanksgiving Day 2010 (not a haiku)

I am thankful to have a job, especially one with health care benefits; for my safe and warm home; for (more than) enough to eat; for the freedom to speak my mind without worrying about being disappeared for it; for my faith and the freedom to practice it; for so much wonderful music in my life; and especially for family and friends whom I love and who love me! Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

11.25.2010

lowering grey sky,

that certain chill in the air

that whispers “winter”

11.24.2010

cottony fluff flies

from slate skies into the grin

on my upturned face

11.23.2010

hammered pewter lake

gold, brass, copper, and bronze leaves

metallic morning 

11.22.2010

unexpected rain

sneaks under my popped collar,

surprises my spine

11.21.2010

breathe in the fall rain,

redolent of leaves and earth

revitalizing

11.20.2010

pinot grigio

grapes squished to their true essence

revealing mine, too

11.19.2010

the clouds are quilted

vague shapes and hidden figures

like a dream story

constantly changing

non-sequiturs and segues

rorschach in the sky

11.18.2010

mother of pearl sky

nebulous emulous clouds

origami air

11.17.2010

red leaves shout for joy.

fat squirrel commutes across

the park. chill air snaps.

11.16.2010

wings churning the air

the geese ascend, then sail off

flight smooth as butter

11.15.2010

eyes begin to close.

each blink lasts a bit longer

than the last. sleeeeeepy.

11.14.2010

impressionist lake

variously verdigris,

turquoise, lichen grey.

moss green within its

sturdy breakwater border.

wild-hued beyond it.

11.13.2010

light drizzle dripping

rain tap-dancing on wet leaves

bare twigs and grey sky

bonus haiku, in honor of INAP’s new cd:

I’m Not a Pilot

their name is made for haiku

how could I resist?

11.12.2010

anxiety  - that

creature crawling in your gut,

catching at your throat.

11.11.2010

will war ever cease?

no more need for veterans?

they’re dying for peace.

11.10.2010

sun on the water

waves joyful and sparkling,

laughing and winking

11.09.2010

russet red pinecones

a fibonacci sequence

of seeds spiraling

11.08.2010

imperturbable

squat, solid the lighthouse sits

mirrored in the lake

11.07.2010

the bromeliad

is dead. killed another plant.

I’m the grim reaper.

11.06.2010

burrowed down into

warmth’s embrace, my internal

voice slows, stops, dreams.

11.05.2010

color of comfort

fabric of respite. not just

“clothes” - old friends. my jeans.

11.04.2010

twin sundogs at dusk

hounding the sun from the sky

chasing it away

11.03.2010

petulant. greenblack.

the corrugated water

matches my foul mood

11.02.2010

icy rime scattered

like confectioner’s sugar.

delicious sparkle

11.01.2010

where’d my weekend go?

what happened to October?

or 1990?

how does this happen?

can a year just disappear?

I, evaporate?