-
ISOLATION
She wondered what it would be like to be an island, set off somewhere in a vast ocean, tropical preferably where the only sounds were the ebb and flow of the waves, the thunder of the occasional storm and the whisper of leaves tossed by the omnipresent sea breezes. she liked isolation, the silence of…
-
A SOUTHERN WINTER (HAIKU)
In the dark of night clouds gavotte across the sky we awake to rain There is no snow here – we dream of Fujiyama imagine winter. A thousand cranes rise take wing over the city smiling at the sun.
-
SEA-ING
He believes he would like the ocean, imagines standing on the shore watching as the waves wash up to his feet, and as quickly retreat, smoothing the sand. He has never seen the ocean, only ponds and on large lake, but he imagines the ocean is just a giant lake with bigger waves. He would…
-
REMEMBERED
She said she recalled the spilled glass of wine that stained her white linen blouse. She said the city swallows people like a hungry beast that will never be sated. I taste the summer sun and the sweetness of an early rain in the Shiraz that foretells approaching winter. The city is a cat that…
-
LOST IN A DREAM
In my dream last night, I was lost in a city of mostly dogs, but what was odd is that they were all standard poodles who only wanted to lick my hand and cheek. I tell you this not because the dream was unusual, it was in fact rather mundane. I didn’t awaken with a…
-
SEIGAN’S COST OF RICE
The search will be endless the answer at once obvious and incapable of being found. You seek direction to it, certain the right teacher holds the key to the critical gate, inside which all of the Dharma sits waiting for you. If the teacher asks you how many people live in a distant city you…
-
SPECIES LOGIC
There is a logical reason that zoos are not built in the heart of cities for it would be difficult to ascertain which animals were the exhibits and which were the visitors, each in their own sorts of cages. In the end it would not work out well for lions and monkees prefer to watch…
-
LIVING
They sit in a small wine bar on an out-of-the-way street in an out-of-the-way city, she sipping a Oregon Pinot Noir while he is on his second Alsatian Pinot Gris. She asks him if he ever thinks about death. He peers into his wine glass, than at her and smiles a gentle smile, “I don’t,”…
-
IN DREAMS
Late in the night a train rolled by through the city, a few miles down the hill from here, its horn muted but still required at crossings. I know it appeared in my dreams, but I cannot tell if it was as the heron in flight over the lake, or the long bearded hiker with…
-
AS THE CROW FLIES
Leaving the fields of the countryside for the city, it is the birds that tell you when the invisible boundary has been crossed. There are usually signs along the roads bolted to steel poles but the birds know better. In the country, birds sing long arias to the day, to cornstalks making the slow green…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
an old writer and his words 