Friday, October 2, 2026

Know One and Two

One


Some think trees know each other

As an unborn child knows its mother —

Receptivities to stasis and change

Continually rearrange

The molecules of a form of mind

As they perpetually unwind.

“Some think” has become all

That’s left of the old universal.


Two


We can’t tell anyone to know,

Don’t even know what knowing is,

Where it comes from, its genesis.


Things we know just come and go.

We can’t force anything to stay,

Especially anything we say.


Everything we know is “as though,”

A nothing become contingent,

Mindlessly intelligent.


There’s no bird smarter than a crow,

Or so it’s said by learned men,

Who can count from one to ten,


But find it hard to explain how

Crows never fly in a straight line.

As if seeking some strict design,

We fly from not wanting to know.


 

Thursday, October 1, 2026

Haiku, 10/27/26

Light from a prism

Moves along my bedroom wall —

My sun’s opened eye.

Wednesday, September 23, 2026

Temptation

Temptation does not walk on legs
As long and thin as giraffe stilts.
It stomps like an elephant on eggs
Until it's churned a mess of guilt.
All the old men are full of denial,
As if that's all it took to be godly.
The Office is an empty trial
And determination works, oddly,
Better than love, if all you want
Is to know physical love, riches,
Hatred — sick powers of the tyrant.
I love how the hair shirt itches.

Thursday, September 17, 2026

Six Lake Shore Haiku, September 2026


Haiku, 9/9/26

I think each wave is

New — unlike any other —

But I’m not a wave.


Haiku, 9/10/26

The lake horizon

Is a perfectly straight line —

It closes my eyes.


Haiku, 9/11/26

I watch the lake shore

Through bare trees and square windows —

Water floods the house.


Haiku, 9/12/26

The wind’s strong today —

Gull flotillas ride the waves —

Vanish between them.


Haiku 2, 9/12/26

There’s no more to say

About our time on the beach —

The sand says, “Go home.”


And from September 19, 2022

All gray and white, gulls,

Lake, and clouds. The banished sun

Slashed the horizon.

Tuesday, September 15, 2026

Rondeau for Ruth, on her birthday, 9/16/26

He knew euphoria the day they met.
He’s often felt so between then and now.
Was it the shy smile or searching brown eyes
Or how her eyelashes would lower and rise,
Like glinting perfection taking a bow?

How could any-day simple chance allow
Strangers meeting to result in a vow
And forty years devoid of pain or lies?
He knew euphoria the day they met.

His eye is protected by her eyebrow.
Their two hearts beat with a whisper and wow,
Not felt, but heard, always in sweet surprise.
No thought between them arrives in disguise.
They will never fail to remember how
They knew euphoria the day they met.

Saturday, September 12, 2026

Two Haiku

Haiku, 9/12/26

The wind’s strong today —

Gull flotillas ride the waves —

Vanish between them.


Haiku, 9/11/26

I watch the lake shore

Through bare trees and square windows —

Water floods the house.

Thursday, September 10, 2026

Haiku, 9/9/26

I think each wave is
New — unlike any other —
But I’m not a wave.