Category Archives: Haiku 2019

FIRE DESIGNS

 

 

Ashes, white on black
slopes, drought-dead Blue Oaks, final
portraits of a fire.

 

IDES OF AUGUST

 

 

Blueberry moonrise
never in the same place twice—
acorns ripe in oak trees.

 

UP THE HILL

 

© Terri Blanke

 

Not an easy climb
to rise above the bluster
of the self=righteous.

 

MOUNTAIN GARLAND

 

 

Amid the empty
heads of wild oats, Clarkia
paints hillsides purple—

long-stemmed families
reseeding new ground, waiting
for late rains in May.

 

LAST EMBRACE

 

 

Held in high regard,
we let the dead lean until
we lay down to rest.

 

GOING HOME

 

 

No need to worry
about fancy horsemanship—
the girls know the way.

 

SHIPPING DAY 2005

 

(click to enlarge)

 

Privilege and luck
to know and work with fine men
while getting older.

A part of them sticks
to the sides of gaping holes
they have left us with

to load semi-trucks
with ripened grass on the hoof—
cowmen to count on.

 

 

Returning home yesterday after a moving celebration of the life of Earl McKee, Robbin went through some her photos trying to determine the age of our old dog, only to run across her photo of Tom Grimmius and Art Tarbell on Dry Creek, two more from the old school that are no longer with us to help get the job done. Reminding me of H.C. “Bud” Jackson’s “The Good ‘Uns” about Cleo Denny and other local and progressive cattlemen, published in 1980.

 

CANDELABRA

 

 

Wild inspiration
to ignite each arm of grace
with blooms for a room.

 

PERSPECTIVE

 

 

Crowded outer space,
red sputniks and satellites
between us and God.

 

ECHINOPSIS IN MAY

 

 

One-night bloom well-spent
at once—a dazzling display
of brilliance gone limp.