Sunday, November 10, 2013

this warmth

this warmth
in my hand - father's
old pocket watch

Monday, September 30, 2013

Pardon my absence

Please forgive me for not having posted since summer - I simply got too busy with gardening, yard work, taking care of my injured wife, other things and didn't seem to make time for my blog. Life is easing up some now and I anticipate being back after the blog and poetry shortly.

Thanks - Warren

Tuesday, June 11, 2013


erratic flight
of a butterfly
my thoughts trail

Thursday, May 23, 2013

old movies

soft rain
the catharsis
in old movies

Saturday, May 11, 2013

burn of horseradish

hurtful words
the burn of horseradish
on my tongue

Monday, May 6, 2013

hawk's shadow

the hawk's shadow
in and out
of the canyon's shadow

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

winter dream

still of night
the crunch of my feet
in a winter dream

A little late of season -
oh well

Saturday, April 27, 2013

losing dreams

sleepless again
no matter how I lie
I still lose dreams

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

uneventful day

uneventful day
the dog nuzzles a wasp
on the sill

Thursday, April 18, 2013

deliciously red - a tanka

her kiss
the season's
first strawberry
deliciously red


This is reminiscent of a poem
I had published in the Feb. 2012 issue of
The Red River Review entitled

"The Strawberry Patch"

She moves warily through the strawberry patch,
an eye for the season's first reward of deep red,
payment for years of careful tending, fertilizing,
covering in the cold months, watering in the hot.
In the strawberry patch she finds her serenity,
a peace spreading beneath the warm sun, with
sparrows voicing approval from nearby bushes,
Monet clouds gliding leisurely in the cerulean sky,
and honey bees darting from one strawberry flower
to the next. And upon finding the first berry
the woman dutifully offers it to the old man nearby,
who smiles in his love for her, knowing she's
generous enough to offer, but hopes he'll decline.
Mature love is like that, he thinks to himself,
as their kind of love will always offer the first
of everything, or the last of everything, for his
weakness is the last piece of strawberry pie, but
knowing because of love each in turn will defer.
This is how he would choose to remember her,
this beautiful woman who's been by his side,
the smile on her face as she savors the early
berry, licking her lips as if she had just eaten
a mouthful, all the while the breeze fluffs
her white hair and her blue eyes echo the sky.
Yes, he thinks, this is how it should always be.


for Makensie - a haiga

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

clematis ladder - haiku

first light
song sparrows scale
the clematis ladder

Published in Notes from the Gean
No. 3, December 2009

Saturday, April 13, 2013

gritty wait - haiku

styrofoam coffee
gritty wait for my wife's
medical exam

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Published in Haigaonline
vol 12 issue 7, Dec. 2011

Monday, April 8, 2013

barreling south

Published in Haigaonline
vol 12 issue 7, Dec. 2011

Friday, April 5, 2013

Published in Haigaonline
vol 12 issue 7, Dec. 2011

Monday, April 1, 2013

Slepless in Idaho

another slepless night
the keyboard
misspells "sleepless"


Sunday, March 24, 2013

crow feather

a crow feather
carried on the wind –
her final goodbye

First published in
A Hundred Gourds 1:1 Dec. 2011

Friday, March 22, 2013

loon's cry

Amended - First published in Simply Haiku
Autumn 2006, vol 4 no 3

Monday, March 18, 2013

new hearts

First published in Simply Haiku
Autumn 2006, vol 4 no 3

Friday, March 15, 2013

beyond the shadows

the shadows
beyond the shadows


Monday, March 11, 2013

day moon

day moon
the vagueness
of her smile


a fly
returns to the window
. . . rain again


Friday, March 8, 2013

one eye

one eye open
that golden moment
before memory


Tuesday, March 5, 2013


a string of snow geese 
weaves northward
the wanderlust


Sunday, March 3, 2013


biting words
burn of horseradish
on his tongue


Thursday, February 28, 2013


scattered in the wake
of a mallard
the whole damn mountain


Wednesday, February 27, 2013

tree-lined road

tree-lined road
the accelerated turn
to gold

(Referencing the colors of fall - yes, wrong season, but one of my more favorite haiku - Published in the November, 2009 issue of  Notes from the Gean


a snow goose
cups its wings to land
curve of the shore

Published in The Heron's Nest XII:2 (2010)


Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Monday, February 25, 2013

Saturday, February 23, 2013

weight of this sky

my brother's grave –
of this sky


Wednesday, February 20, 2013

snow - crow

Today we received another six inches of snow - and just about the time I was thinking spring could not be THAT far around the corner (sure, another few months, but . . .). So, instead of getting back out into my unheated studio, I'm confined to the big picture window that looks out upon the studio - and all the new snow (I am still in a wheelchair except when the snow's gone and I can use my power scooter). It's quiet, at least that much is good, except for the cawing of crows, which is also good:

another layer
of snow
cawing of a crow

I realize there's some rhyming - snow and crow - but I kind of like that, as well as the high contrast between the white of the snow and the black of the crow, and the silence of snow and the raucous cawing. Does it work?

Thanks - Warren

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

sad turn

road to our old house
the sad turn from love
to memories

(Remake of an earlier haiku, and hopefully an improvement)


she remains silent,
as do I —
outside, the wind


Thursday, February 7, 2013

Monday, February 4, 2013

old wounds

divorce papers
the stray dog
scratches old wounds

(Thinking back many, many years)

Friday, February 1, 2013

sliding into sleep

sliding into sleep the memories just before


my photo
as a child
the years between


visit with mom
clearing my neglect
from her gravestone


Tuesday, January 29, 2013

rhubarb jam

last jar
of rhubarb jam –
the snow recedes


another year older wind from the north