Around the park
Lucky leads clockwise
counter our normal
path
several trees are a few leaves
shy of brilliant
others a few short
of bare
I wonder how this
became the season
of
my muse
a child of summer
grown into autumn
to fall
to leave
and should I worry
when my poems
turn to snow
and the dead of winter? mjh
10/26/2004
We planted this mimosa
when I turned 50.
Mom always said,
“every man should plant a tree
and raise a son.”
I’ve planted many trees
and this one started out
just right
the mantis in the branches
saying a benediction
But life has its own way
of moving forward
that sturdy little tree
seemed dead in spring
our hopes dashed
until new growth sprang up
from still lively roots
growing its own way
around and past the dead
With luck
I’ll play buddha to this banyan
beneath the birds
an old man nodding in its filtered shade
a book of poetry in my lap
a cold cuppa coffee by my side mjh
06/23/06
the alpha wolf dreams
she is on her greatest hunt.
the prey is worthy & strong
her twitches and yelps
awaken her pack
they stand around her
recognize the cues
this is a great hunt.
as one, they lay down
and close their eyes
and she is surrounded again
by her pack
moving endlessly towards the kill mjh
8/18/04
Before dawn
I sit and wait
pen in hand.
I look across
this blank page
stretching forever.
Where are you?
I watch and wait
and look up to see you
at the edge of the woods
you emerge
and walk toward me
walking on water
toward me
that serene calm face
looking through me
at the world.
Am I your mirror? mjh
1/4/2005
at night
the wolves wait
on my temples
for the elk to venture
from my sparse hairline
onto my forehead
instantly, the pack pursues the herd
some escape into the thicket of my eyebrows
as the rest charge across
the curve of my cheek
longing for the forest of my beard
I sleep through the slaughter
on my jaw
soothed by the steady snores
of slumbering bears
in the caves of my ears mjh
10/12/2004
(Thanks to Merri for ‘slumbering.’)
Listen to Slumber
My Virtual Chapbook (table of contents)
From afar
I am drawn
to this mountain.
I step on his feet,
climb his knee,
over his hip,
and run along his long spine,
up between great shoulders.
Ahead I face the summit.
From his crown
I look down
and around
and around.
Here near his ear
I listen to silence
and breathe the cold light
as a flea on a giant. mjh
1/4/2005
Listen to flea
My Virtual Chapbook (table of contents)
like nervous reptiles
skittering among the rocks
safe haven
but never secure
warmed from the outside
animated by a distant source
a shadow freezes and frightens us
we run for the light,
pause, bask,
before slipping into darkness mjh
Listen to bask
My Virtual Chapbook (table of contents)