fruit salad

her eyes follow me

hidden beneath blunt cut bangs

cherries on her dress


cherry red kisses

peach tinged breasts tipped a ripe brown

she tastes of mango


fingertips stained red

sticky with raspberry juice

so sweet on your lips


strawberry  lips press

along jawbone and pulse point

his heart beats faster


The tale of two kitties

One of my cats plays

in paper bags, cardboard boxes –



looking for a way out

of a place he pranced into,

and a place

at one time

he wanted to be.


My other cat waits

for unknowing passers-by’s

naked heel

springing forth

from behind the recliner chair

to capture the opportune moment,

wrest away from life

the desired prize.


I wonder if I

could be like this fat cat,



taking advantage

of knocked-on-doors,

lights not burned out



or if my choices,

like the other,

would leave me

trapped inside.


variations in blue

Beneath blue moonlight

She rocks by open window

Waiting for him still


scratchy records play

Ella singing summertime

Moon traces blue tears


twelve-string plays softly

melancholy notes in G

she wears a blue dress


gently his hand slides

down the cleft of her bare back

ella sings the blues


Relentless clear sky

Lawn crisps to needle like shards

My garden withers

Hidden beneath the porch steps

Seven blue violets survive


bathed in sweat droplets

her fan painted with cherries

blue popsicle drips


Sun baked earth
Mist rising from the fields
After the rain

NaHaiWriMo in August 2012

Haiku a day – again!

Sally, porn star extraordinaire

I must have been a porn queen
in a life before this,
to have this burning,
desire to simply fuck
in open spaces,
where someone,
could watch me,
moving together-
rejoicing in our ecstasy,
burning with jealousy,
relishing our abandoned,
synchronous movement.
This knowing a secret
twenty-dollar bill
tucked deep
in a forgotten pocket,
if only
you could remember
exactly where you left it
how to stretch fingers out,
just beyond your grasp.
I’ll make love to you –
legs entangled,
our harmonies like crickets
nestling in the grass,
my  sounds swallowed
by your mouth.
And just over the hill-top
the music plays
and the looky-loos travel on,
us visible
only in peripheral vision
as you slide your fingers deeply
into my pockets,
touch all my edges –
searching for secrets.
I feel the porn star slipping past.
With you she’s always there,
never out of reach.

The many grits of sandpaper

soft, raspy with sleep

your voice cracking as you paint

breath strokes on my neck


reddened from the sun

even your white cotton sheets

rasp against my skin


a calloused hand

rasps across my belly

slips under the lace


your teeth rasp against

my finger drawn from your mouth

the wetness glistens



body warm, supple

under teal T-shirt,

loose-jointed before

coffee solidifies

sleep-softened bones.


Lips brush aside

wayward strands,

skin salty on the tongue.


Sun streams dust-dappled

casting shadows-

your nipple


through the cotton.


My body


in response.

How a memory lingers?

I sit in moonlight

shadows stretch across the street.

Man walks past the stoop –

cherry pipe smoke trails behind.

It smells of your green sweater.


I fold my laundry,

harshly snapping out wrinkles.

Only one basket.

Your shirt feels soft on my cheek,

but scent no longer remains.

silvered seduction

your face in shadow
blurred silhouette hesitates
framed by the doorway

so sheer in moonlight
your blue dress slides slowly
puddles at your feet

the curve of your back
painted silver by moonlight
as you turn away

heat of your body
sliding between cool white sheets
fevered as I touch

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