5.5 haiku sonnet

from two yards over
the lawnmower still buzzes
after the sunset

we watch bats swooping
their silent acrobatics
a tango at dusk

the cicadas sing
over our conversation
drowning out the words

I watch your tongue flick
gathering the amber drops
along the smooth rim

we sip tequila slowly
warmed more by heated glances

the man in the moon 4.26

I try to believe
that your never uttered words
are the crescent moon

with negative space
closepacked with rocks and water
hidden, trapped inside

depths of the mantle
even though it is often

the smile of the man
in the moon is a cold one
lighting night pathways

but never bringing any
warmth to bask upon your skin

reminiscent deux

just after the dawn
a sliver of moon still hung
above the pine tree

when I saw you last
our fingers slid palm to palm
lacing together

fingertips tracing
across the plains of your face
the curve of my lip

searching in the dusk
for unspoken emotion
like Braille on your skin

the pale moon of your nail bed,
ever present scent of pine




A few scattered drops

reminiscent of the storm

the katydid sings


under cold bare feet

the soaked ground gives with each step

mud between my toes


on the sodden lawn

two robins hop-scotch across

searching for their lunch


we swing silently

our fingertips barely bridge

the cold front between


the stillness after our storm

filled with katydid chirping


In response to the katydid haiku challenge on Frank J. Tassone’s site … my version of a haiku sonnet.

As if you were Midas

just before night’s end
water laps along the shore
caressing the sand

your breath on my neck
rolling warmly forward, back
across pale, bare skin

rough fingertips trace
unmapped pathways across the
freckles of my face

my lips slip along
the cusp of sinewed shoulder,
hollow of your neck

two dragonflies dawn-gilded
conjoined along water’s edge

Fighting under blankets

midnight sky fading
frost billows with every breath
snow squeaks underfoot

like old bed springs
we played long into the night
when we were both young

now I am Israel
and you Palestine, a war
always imminent

we cling steadfastly
in sleep to mattress edges
giving up no land

holding on by principle
the whys nearly forgotten


evening’s scarlet eye
captivates my thoughts – pulls them
always beyond the horizon

you beckon me –
red-light, come-hither,
come-back to bed

gibbous moon
inviting exploration
of the darkened edge

faint moonlit sheen
on your hip’s rounded curve –
cleft hidden in shadows

midnight cirrus wisps
scuttle across the sky’s expanse
suddenly visible, then gone

I taste your soft sighs
escaping – like us, a singularity
vaporizing into the night

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Singularity – see literary studies:
“an item or event triggered by an item that results in divergent narratives,
in which the singularity alters the new timeline
away from a prior “default” state”.

And life moves along

seeded grass grows tall
over the newly dug grave
quickly hiding wounds

white apple blossoms
have long shriveled and fallen
leaving fruit filled limbs

storms throughout the night
soften the earth, sprinkle it
with small, green apples

fawns on spindly legs
feast on the wind blown sour fruit
hide in the grasses

dawn streaks the sky scarlet, pink
a new day begins

and thus begins summer

a cold, dark evening
clouds huddle around starlight,
the ending of May

whispering summer
lilacs mingle with your scent
as I pull you near

full moon burgeoning
silver spills across the ground
painting black shadows

of us standing close
our legs merging into one

white breath-clouds eclipsing
your face as we kiss

the effects of butterflies

their lightly feathered
wings setting into motion
a chain of events

fluttering within
butterflies in my stomach
before our first kiss

the dandelion
bending low beneath its weight
bows to the monarch

your lips on my neck
barely brushing the surface
butterfly kisses

setting chaos in motion
with the chance we met

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