Tag: poetry

inchworm

RIGHTWORM

i like to make

things out of wood

i never really

thought i could

but i have help

my inchworm friend

who carries out

the measuring end

he scoots along

then parks his butt

to show me where

to make my cut

but he’ll become

a moth someday

he’ll feel his oats

and fly away

and on that day

he does escape

i’ll have to buy

a measuring tape

 

–photo by me

Wilted

FINALWILTED

I lay here on my lawn chair

Out in the merciless sun,

Too hot to move to the shade.

The shimmering air is still,

And I’m actually being cooked

alive in this backyard oven.

I’m sizzling like a sausage.

The meat is done and ready

To slide right off my bones.

I’m going to spontaneously

Combust any second now.

Detonation is imminent–

Wait! Suddenly a breeze!

A lovely, lovely, breeze!

I am saved by the wind.

Don’t leave, lovely breeze.

Come back! Tell your friends!

I am back in the fiery pit.

I am wilted.

 

–Photo by me

Haibun: Rock Solid

finalaaron1

My son Aaron and I like to go on “adventures” together as often as we can. Today, we’re at the very rocky North Shore of Lake Superior, or Gitchi Gami, as the Indians called it, meaning “Great Sea”. It’s the world’s largest fresh-water lake, and has the highest elevation of the Great Lakes chain.

We’re climbing around on the massive rocks to try to find a good shot, and it’s so hot, I’m tempted to dive in. There’s a constant squawking of sea gulls and other birds as they keep jockeying for better positions on the rocky islands just off shore. The relentless waves slap against the unyielding stone. A tall sailboat silently slides by.

As I stand here and gaze out over the vast expanse of water, I suddenly feel very small, and I realize how lucky I am to have this precious time together with my son.

* * *

a shore of great stones–

solid as the bond between

a father and son

finalaaron2

–photos by me