Winter dreams seem to pierce reality almost like advisories or clairvoyance; but summertime dreams bind to no specific time or space, comforting objective emergency in sweet blankets of sensuality…

at first a haiku
is more
like a feeling
you can’t let the thinking
flood in

~ • ~

wouldn’t this perfect morning lessen
minus the laughing play sounds of out-of-view children
and wouldn’t so many mysteries resolve
in the face of her impossible kissing

~ • ~

plants called weeds proliferate
because I paid no gardener
their tallness sways unstable
signalling the subtlest breeze
who says langour has no recompense

~ • ~

a propeller plane drones
in no distinct direction
unseen across a boundless sky
exactly like when I was seven

~ • ~

that wall of maples and beeches
made an expanse of cool dark shadow
so the busy marmot munching sweet grass
could erect and ponder one instant

~ • ~

watching a crimson dragonfly
my lover bows a soulful cello
though she does not quite exist

~ • ~

the summer wants me
to know your flavor, love
travelling your earthly skin
beneath every dress
in your collection

~ • ~

I can never tell you
how the wild white rosebush smells
on wednesday afternoon

~ • ~

the first wild deer
I observed in sacred childhood
overcame me in waves as a gift
the one partly obscured
moving soft into leafy cover
just yesterday from a window
eludes me as to its significance

~ • ~

do you notice it, love
what’s secreted inside the sunlight’s warmth
not just temperature
but devotion and beneficence
and clarity of thought
spiritual insight and serene awakening
and even some tips about lovemaking

~ • ~

the still cloud suspended
by translucent cords
can only change shape
when you look away quickly

~ • ~

if the rain comes soon
let me endure it enough
to see how archangels think upon wetness
if the sunny breeze prevails
let me waken to see heaven
despite the myriad browns in your iris

_______RS

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