First Freedoms

Zooming over armies of ants
with snacks on their backs,
touches of lunch lurch within
bursting bellies.

Freedoms found in the leisurely
revolutions of childhood’s first
and favorite escape are dreamt
of even after smooth cheeks have
turned with time.

Strawberry sugar stragglers fall
freely onto burnt bug bitten legs.
Chains of children with hamburger
hands grasp wildly for outstretched
French fry fingers, dripping limbs
without faces act as summertime
saviors.

Vivid veins flash fiercely against sooty
sky.  Rich rumbles from above make
mothers mouths move impish Its and
Not Its on to protecting porches as
scents of soil rise from rose rings.

she could not say

An august owl, silent as sycamore, perched
on lofty marble throne just might, if not napping,
catch creatures of carelessness with its divine
hatchlings.  Protected by tripart shields, they
detect everything which moves under moonshine.

But, Maude saw nothing behind the light–bright
sun out of synch–on that secret sleeping
road.  Whether man or monster came her way,
she could not say.

He is Afraid to Write the Words

He is afraid to write the words.

He is afraid to write the words
that will make hearts pound
out sixty-fourth notes in rooms
without sound.

The doubts that plague him
have plagued us all, yet such
gales of wavering keep windows
of wonder shut.

He is afraid to write the words
that could bring tears of tolerance
to the eyes of the ignorant.

Pursuits bereft of plume and pen
fill infinite hours with memories
that are not worth remembering.

He is afraid to write the words
that others feel but cannot say
because they cannot write.

He is afraid to write the words.

Swallowing Serenade

 

swallow-3

Their songs were sung without a care
for those who slumbered soundly there.
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This morning, I was happy to be awoken by the cheerful songs of some little barn swallows.
Kofu, Japan 
July, 15th, 2017

One Thousand Hopes

Crane Collage

Please burn us when dark evenings yawn.
and joyful days will surely dawn.


I recently finished folding one thousand origami cranes (known in Japan as Senbazuru) as a gift for a friend who is expecting her first child.  This was my first time completing such a project.  When I began the folding, my cranes looked a bit bedraggled, but after making 150 of them, I began to develop a technique.

There is a Japanese legend that says a wish will be granted to anyone who folds a thousand cranes.  It is common for people to present them as gifts to family and cherished friends.

 

 

dashing dinner

There once was a cowherd from Daegu,
who liked reams of red meat in his stew.
Said his wife one warm eve
as she darned his ripped sleeve,
“tonight’s feast ran off, mooing ‘screw you!’”

—————————–
This is an older poem of mine that I came across today.  My husband and I lived in Daegu, South Korea from 2012 to 2015.  Daegu is pronounced “tay-goo”.  The original didn’t include the anapest that is desired for the limerick form, so I am slowly working on putting it in there.  This version still needs some work.