Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Manhattan paean

The Slavic voices at Starbucks near the Asian straight black hair cascading off shoulders; the woman talking to herself or the sidewalk air loudly declaring 'I ain't that bad'; leaving the $37 for 24 hours garage on 110th, pivoting from Broadway to West End Avenue, the green lights in synchronicity, counting the cross streets down, even ones one way west to east, odd ones one way east to west, with a few thrown in for both directions, such as 96th; yellow cabs white NYPD black Mercedeses red Mustang silver VW; Verizon cable being snaked downward cranes upward; a city reinventing itself old new old new flashing like brilliant Times Square HD billboards; skimming the tops of skyscraping apartment buildings the splash of late-afternoon sun; amber then red light; honey locusts maples poodles schoolkids fire engines sirens; filigree pedigree wrought-iron gateways doorways window grilles and bas relief designs in concrete from the Gilded Age; uniformed doormen; strollers nannies headphones crosswalk scarf-wearers in the wind; grocery carts; bicyclists insanely threading a life-and-death needle of time and space and daring; tall apartment buildings by the trash transfer station with the tall stack by the car dealers where last time more than a decade ago I parked in a cheap lot with razor wire now gone; West End becomes 11th no one told me; the Hudson River Jersey light nearly blinding; breeze downtown; Lincoln Meatpacking Chelsea Piers; by the water; boulevard; contours; swerve; smooth. Manhattan.

Tuesday, October 04, 2016

dream lover

At the stoplight, he glanced into the rearview mirror. It framed a vision. She was looking down, obviously at her phone, at a text or a message, who knows perhaps a YouTube video. She was young, with dark hair, dark eyes, dark eyebrows, long, dark hair. Time stopped before the light changed. What a dream, he thought, relieved the light was turning green, relieved she never locked eyes, as can happen in those mirrored exchanges. "Merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream" floated into his head as he put his left foot on the clutch, pressed the gas, and turned left.

Saturday, September 24, 2016

autumn haiku 1

rolling green meadows / tawny cornstalks sunset-drenched / before bonfire sparks

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

summer haiku 10

tiny butterfly / wings still on dandelion / white exclamation

This really happened. A moth (is that not the same as a butterfly?) with a black spot or two on white wings landed on a yellow flower. The wings were still. Folded together. A gorgeous moment in the sun. And it is almost, not quite, the last day of summer.

Friday, September 16, 2016

Tuesday, September 06, 2016

canal haiku triptych

two sunning turtles
abiding our twin footfalls
stone above water

one regal heron
alert shoreline sentinel
tracking our chatter

shrieking blue jay cry
sweat in the small of the back
wood bridge, dusty shoes

Sunday, August 21, 2016

summer haiku 5

after the showers

night lamp of cloudless moon glow

chilly crickets hum

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Tuesday, August 16, 2016