a new lesson posted
in Spanish
ella es ciega
no glasses strong enough
to lift the fog from my eyes

threads of rain
ending a long drought
now that I've finished
crossing the bones
of the "pan de muertos"

a tree knocking
down a powerline
an indoor hike
with a flashlight to find
our way around the house

with the best viewing times
before dawn
once again I will be
sleeping through
the orionids

reminding me of two cats
wandering along the beach
a brother and sister
take care not to get
too close to the river

at the edge of a cliff
I view the rock face
with the mind
                    of an agile dancer
and the body
                    of a creaking floorboard

in
the shade
of a circus tent
game show hosts
cut out of cardboard
looking just like they do
on tv

the unfinished work
of a dead tree

in its blue eye
the widening gap
of a lonely afternoon

the day having
lost its smile
a child peers through
the sagging mesh
of a screen door

on a bluff where
     the wind refuses
to slow its pace
     the trees become the first
pendulums of winter

fading voices
at sunset
a pair of bicycles
deserted for the coolness
of a fountain

substituting leaves
for dropped coins
the 'o's in october
going by faster than
I can count them

the same argument
as yesterday
if only disagreements
could be resolved
through repetition

late afternoon
the construction project
drifting into the shadows
of a ladder
climbing the bricks

almost ready
for a good night's sleep
the crescent moon
wearing its nightcap
of clouds

like pairs of black oars
on a downed cottonwood
the reflections
of double-crested cormorants
resting in the slough

perhaps she's grown
used to them by now. . .
on a cool evening
the meteor streaking by
cassiopeia's chair

The Campaign Ads of Heroes and Villains

campaign ads airing
like a bad western
with no one wearing any hats
it's hard to tell the heroes
from the villains

Shall we just assume it's the latter?

(Fast Forward 2016: I wrote this tanka for a previous election year. I did not foresee Trump running for President and wearing a baseball cap.)

as though it were
warning me about
my finances
the dead leaf blowing past
the atm machine

how many oceans ago
since I walked along this beach
in the palm of my hand
the sand dollar currency
of a childhood vacation

feeling the pulse of autumn
with all its arrhythmias
the heart seems to steady itself
around the red-leaf 
patterns of sumac

this day would be
nothing without
the golden musella*
armed with its brief poems
of raindrops and spider webs


*Also known as the Chinese
Dwarf Banana. 

Link to the Missouri Botanical Garden:

http://tinyurl.com/zgorwjj

the lights of the theater
adjusted for fall
I watch the silent film
of a snake crossing
the gravel road

the blare of fire alarms
inside the hospital
maybe now is not
a good time for
another cup of coffee