With My Daughter at the Ray Touch Tank

Remember how giddy we were,
thrusting our arms
up to the elbow in cold water,
clutching smelt till the rays came
and snuffled them from our hands?

Remember how shocked we were,
squealing with surprised joy,
how tiny teeth felt on our palms
gnawing so gently it tickled
like a cat’s rough tongue?

Remember their smiles,
how we proclaimed cownose rays
the cutest of all living things?
I remember your eyes, glossy
with laughter, and feeling so alive.

Karin’s prompt to the Real Toads: A GLANCE AT NARRATIVE


Working On a Building

What if
this structure exists
only in my mind,
these rooms
in which I pace
tile floors to carpet
are of my imagining,
our talks and lovemaking
the trusses
of my dreaming-home,
our silence and pain
but girders
for a grander scheme than we?
If so, it will take
more than a crane
to bring this baby down--

Late entry for Kim’s weekend challenge: BUILDINGS
Sharing on the Tuesday Platform in the Imaginary Garden


Haiku Observation #4284

Rainy Monday blues--
worn like a home-made afghan,
tastes like cough syrup


Toast & Syrup

No sugar cereal
only Chex or Wheaties
but any day (or every day)
2 pieces of Wonder toast

spread with margarine
cut in 18 fork-size pieces
soaked in Golden Griddle
This breakfast

seems wrong for adults
(or for anyone in 2017)
but would be fulfilling
in a green year

Sharing with the Toads on the Tuesday Platform in the Imaginary Garden



When the last of the fireworks
fizzles into grey-green night
under a lonely streetlight,
mosquitos retire, drunk,
the air’s as dense as local honey
and sweet, I’ll retire in your arms

Because upon waking, we’ll miss
this thickness portending loss,
the dozen verses sung in darkness
simply for sake of time, and wait
out pacing hours until the chance
again arrives to imbibe on shadows

Late entry for Play It Again in the Imaginary Garden