Training a wide mind to notice minutiae.
Spring has come with its hubbub and troubles. The creaking need to get outside and stand in the foolishly alive air is upon us again here in New Jersey. The chemical smokestacks greet the new season with their votive fires. And I, a poet despite myself, am to be found scribbling among the nooks of my office cubicle. Or sitting dazed on the stoop at lunchtime while busy birds thread their nests into being. Take note! I tell myself. And so, here are a few Spring notes I've penned on my palms like a new phone number, each new number over-writing the last until, finally, my hands are a palimpsest, and all the Springs run together like soapy ink.
There are two versions of the introductory poem (of course!). I can never say either "Hello" or "Goodbye" just once.
Swatting a fly--
rolled paper on the summer screen--
What? Haiku!
Swat that fly!
With what? Rolled paper against
the screen... Haiku!
Ratty grass
in the cool quadrangle
spring dawn
Spring breeze--
All night on the lawn
a paper kite
Spring birds at dusk--
Even the kids next door
settle on the stoop
Spring is here!
No more long nights dreaming
of cherry blossoms!
Carefully
the cat sniffs the windowscreen--
Spring breeze
Spring evening--
The curious moon uncloaks
a last patch of snow
Spring nighttime---
Drunks behind the Irish pub
play on the beach
Breeze by breeze
through the stirring grassblades
Spring arrives
For over an hour
calling in the dogs to eat--
Spring dusk
Spring night--
Everyone leans against the bar
in less clothes
Spring cleaning--
Dirt under my fingernails
from the flowerbox
Autumn already?
But, I'm not yet tired
of wiping sweat
Send me one of you haiku! Email gregglory@aol.com.
5/02/2007
