Haibun On Sunday there was an emergency call about a woman who was in a desperate way down by the river. We heard the report and went down to the river where she was shouting and screaming that the current had taken her daughter… No wonder we despair, a father and his toddler daughter face
Jesus, the God-man, the Savior, Hanging there. His legs are Twisted trees, His feet are locks Whose keys have been Irrepably lost. Though meek, how His arms must ache To hold me. The torso white, gleaming, Scourged like the scars on Pilate’s Silvery moon. At this stage, suffering Has no meaning except for The splayed
1 Victrola records scratched and scarred, the letters of van Gogh unread, and poems to be painted, corrected and filed after the words form, gently bidden. 2 I write a calculus for the intellect and find a dust bin for desire. The writing is all, or mostly all. Lonely, a hawk alone, like during the
In April two lovers sit on a park bench. Pigeons pivot overhead. Kernels of corn at the lovers’ feet. Not just pigeons does their love feed. During the summer months, their love is like the red of roses: vibrant, brilliant. If only roses didn’t have thorns and flowers didn’t wilt. Autumn, and lovers meet. The
(For David Sanes: first human casualty of the bombing in Vieques.) IWhat can we doif the Marines refuse to leave Viequesexcept stand up and resist? IIThe day began like any other day:crisp, the sea spray of mar Caribe wasspindrift against the rising eastern sun;sparse cumulus, like flaming galleons,were tinged with the pink, orange and red
