Monday, August 31, 2009

A Pinot Noir, and some tid bits.


Her face
risen above me,
the moon through the shutters
just touches the left side of her face.
She is not smiling.
Her eyes are like a cat’s,
but soft, and silver.
I think
My God,
that I should be here.
The moon just touches her face,
and still, I am jealous.
a few really short ones 
In my Pear tree
a bird I’ve never seen.
His song…
I don’t know if it’s sad or not.
A young Maple
blushing red…
embarrassed, no doubt,
to be losing her dress.

The older Maples
can’t wait to throw
their leaves like scarves
and dance naked in
new snow.

Hey Armand,
a shot and a Bud short.
And stop saying "God bless ya"
every time I mention Haiku.

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