On a morning walk I am like a bee in search of nectar knowing this richness hides behind color, knowing it could be anywhere and then seeing it, there, right there, in one flower with yellow petals and drops of dew. I put the phone close to it and take a picture trying to see the drops of dew on the leaves but who knows what the photo will show? It isn’t me looking anymore.

Or there it is, in that one tree, in the distance blessed with morning sunbeams, surrounded by the branches and trunk of a nearby tree and below by a soccer field, standing out as one among many trees right now. Even the mistiness of this morning singles this one tree out hiding all those in the background. Just one tree, right now, over there, and why do my eyes find it so beautiful?



Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday where qbit/Randall is hosting with the theme of one’s self en masse.

Photos: “Soccer Field in the Morning”, above, and “Each One”, below.

Each One


I wake to thunder and shivers of lightning through the window. The rhythmic sound of rain comes and goes. The sky surrenders with its tears.

Will I find the right words today? I only need to risk a few. Some come to me like soothing rain perhaps through the storm clouds of my dreams. I wonder, will they do?

Today, depending on how long the sky needs, the Sun may stay behind the clouds holding the sky in warm embrace forgiving the sky for all those doubts.

morning thunderstorm
rain weeps summer’s sun away
autumn starts to fall

Text: Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday. Mish is hosting with the theme of “morning”.  I am also linking this to Debbie Roth’s Forgiving Fridays.

Tomorrow I will be hosting dVerse Poetics with the theme of frustration and heartbreak featuring Gerard Manley Hopkin’s poem “Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend” and Dionne Warwick singing the Bee Gee’s “Heartbreaker“.

Photos: “Early Morning”, above, “Morning Shadows and Reflections”, below.

News: My poem “Boundaries” appeared in the current issue of The Lyric.

Morning Shadows and Reflections


The chapel at the college Thomas and I attended had a storage room in its attic. Thomas and I went there one afternoon. We weren’t supposed to, but that made it all the more intriguing. There was enough light coming through a dirty window to see desks, equipment and oddly beds piled haphazardly around the walls. This dusty place made Thomas think of a tale of demon possession. He told stories well with facial expressions that kept my attention. The last sentence of his story, spoken while he looked suspiciously at me, was, “The devil could possess anyone.”

I say that was the last sentence, because at that point in the story, assuming there was more, a beetle, big and ugly, started bouncing up and down on the ceiling high above us. We thought the bug had gone bonkers. Besides, the bouncing was loud enough to stop Thomas from continuing his story with further hints of my being possessed by something or other. We looked up at the bug. Thomas looked at me. He had an idea. While the bug bounced up and down, up and down, Thomas cautiously crossed his two index fingers and raised his arms to target the noisy bug through them. The moment his eyes, the finger cross and that bug lined up so he could get a good shot—right at that moment—the bug soundlessly dropped to the floor.


Text: Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday.  Lillian is hosting.  Haibun should have two paragraphs of prose about something that really happened. I can’t forget that bug. There should be a “kigo” on the second line of the haiku representing the season. Mine is “springtime”. The haiku should break in two parts at a “kiregi”. I think mine breaks between springtime and bouncing when attention shifts from us rushing out of that room to the smiling bug.  By way of disclosure, neither of us went back to see if the bug was actually smiling. That’s just what I would do were I that bug and I assume only the prose part has to be factual.

Photos: “Upstairs Toward the Blue”, above, and “Climbing”, below.


Long Ago

My first job was in data processing. The night shift gave me the day to enjoy the city. I mounted magnetic tape onto drives as tall I was. It was a job that begged to be automated. That was long ago. Like Sisyphus, I can still see myself mounting those tapes only to take them down again.

My walk to work led past the Art Institute. I spent an hour each afternoon wandering through the exhibits. I can still see some of them.

One of the benefits of membership, at least in those days, long ago, in what I would even call the mysterious dark ages of my life, was the free coffee that the Institute offered in the afternoon. I became a regular around four in the afternoon with a dozen retirees who were always there and a few strangers who might wander in some afternoon and whom we would never see again. I can still taste that coffee.

Through daydreams blow the breeze of memory.
When shadows break I look and sometimes see.

Text: Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday.  Jilly is hosted with the challenge to the traditional form.

Photos: “Blue and Green”, above, and “Red and Green”, below.

Red and Green

Silent Sound

While walking through a garden what I see, and what I miss, is filtered through words sounding through my mind. I don’t talk out-loud to myself.  I make sure these words stays quiet: silent words, silent sounds.  I don’t mind my mind doing this. I enjoy the company unless it’s noisy, offering a wintry mood to a spring day.

There are times when I look about and my mind goes silent on its own. I assume, like me, that it is also stunned, as if to say, but not saying anything, staying really silent this time, “Isn’t that beautiful!”


Text: Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday. I am hosting this week with the theme “silent sound”, whatever that means to you.

Photos: “Ivy”, above, and “Oak Beauty”, below.

Oak Beauty



Compassion proves we can get outside ourselves, boxed in as we are conceptually as individuals, deluded in our isolation, but those who have it don’t need proof much as they don’t need proof of anything that shows our humanity. They know all of this and more is real.


Text: Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday. Xenia Tran is hosting with the theme of compassion.

Photos: “New Leaves Sharing a Tree”, above, and “Sharing the Park”, below.

Sharing the Park

Walking to the Botanic Garden

We live close enough to the botanic garden that I can easily walk there. It is even easier to bicycle there, but usually the bicycle comes along for deeper rides on forest preserve trails. The problem with a bike is where to park it when I am tired biking and want to walk.

Finding where to park my mind is difficult, too, even when walking. I wonder, why park it at all? Just let it enjoy itself, as long as it is really enjoying itself and not making me anxious. Should I meditate? Do I walk straight enough? Are there any good movies to watch? Should I be on a keto diet? My mind has plenty to keep it busy dedicated to saving me from fanciful stuff.

That’s why I carry a phone. Rarely does anyone need to call me although an app helps my family locate me. The phone has a camera. When I see something unusual my eyes take me out of my head and I take a picture. Not all of the pictures I take are good. Some have too much light. Some don’t feel interesting. Some make me wonder, did I really see it that way? Some I’m glad I took.


Text: Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday. Bjorn is hosting with the theme of “walking”.

Photos: “Willow Trees Realize It Is Spring”, above, and “Blue Guides the Way”, below.

Blue Guides the Way