Clock

This is brought to you by the Writing Wednesday prompt, “time.”Thinking about time always gives me a small existential crisis, so happy reading to you!!


Hands: running in circles,
Unable to turn backwards.

Roman numerals reveal the hour,
Gesturing toward its lateness.

Is every half-an-hour announced
With the sound of a cuckoo?

round black wooden analog table clock on black surface
Photo by Felix Mittermeier on Pexels.com

Fond yet Melancholy Memory

At DVerse, for Poetics today, it is “Blue Tuesday.” I was inspired by this picture, which I took with an old friend several years ago (the poem says 5, but it turns out it was actually 6 years and 2 months ago):

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The blues of the view from the Huntington Beach pier:

Five years ago now, yet current they appear

The current of the ocean waves, greenish-blue,

Above horizon-line’s divide, cloudless sky, a lighter hue. 

 

It is the background of my smartphone screen,

Above which other blues, from icons are seen:

Apps like Facebook and the telephone cannot reach

Into the past, nor reconnect with that friend at the beach. 

What Was Now

For DVerse, a haibun about the present moment.


Lungs continue to inflate. Outside, white clouds are Rorschach blots in a sea of sky. The neighbors’ cypress tree is leaning as the wind breathes. Lungs hold their precious breath as birds chip. Lungs let go: Exhale.

sunny afternoon
notice past preconceptions
a breeze — a shiver


This picture was taken when 11 months ago was “now.”

Wilting Lily

I wrote this in response to Angie Trafford’s Writing Wednesday and also because my Easter lily really is looking sad (picture is from a few days ago). 


Notice this wilting Easter lily,
Sad during such a happy season,
Yet there were weeks it brought levity —
Monitor its soil for a reason.

Lack of sun or water could cause
This plummet of vitality,
Or, the plant ought to take a pause —
It could just be its time, clearly.

Growing Strawberries

I wrote this string of haiku after observing the strawberry plants in my family’s garden. We have many berries growing and a few flowers on the plants. 

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I wrote this poem, in a way, to the little flower and about them. The interesting thing about them is that, even though there are many fully-grown berries by them, they do not compare themselves, and they never think that they are growing too slowly, nor think of themselves as failures. There are lessons that flowers can teach us, I think. And by “us,” of course I mean “me.” 

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Impatience

For this prompt about the passing of time and for FOWC: Prodigious.


Time’s prodigious pace
Slows. Significantly.
When you wish it would speed.

Time runs wildly
During those moments
Which make you the most happy:

Time flies by;
Soon you must leave
The dear one by your side.

Wait as the world
Spins several more times,
‘Til you see each other again.

Photo by samer daboul on Pexels.com

Haibun for the End of March

A haibun for DVerse, alluding to cherry blossoms, also partially inspired by FOWC: Slight, but mostly inspired by my family’s garden.


A warm afternoon at the end of March passes both languidly and much too quickly. The sky is blue, with no clouds blowing in the slight breeze. A monarch butterfly, black-and-orange wings majestic and beautiful flies — almost floats — nearly close enough to kiss the nose of an observer. The bird-feeders, filled for the first time in a long while, attract many other winged creatures, feathered things opening their hungry beaks.

And it is around now, when the cherry blossoms bloom at their peak.

Nature takes her time —
From the outside see Earth spin
Making us dizzy