Tag Archives: haiku

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.

 

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.

 

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.

 

IN THE THICK OF IT

 

 

A short leap before
we look back, freeze and believe
we are invisible.

 

VALLEY OAKS

 

 

Last two hundred years,
six days afire—forgotten
ash and sediment.

 

HARVEST

 

 

Two sections of grass,
twenty-four tons on the hoof
leaving for your plate.