Home (Haiku Sequence Segments)

10.18 - I'll Carry My Cross

Early A.M. car

troubles. Still made it to church. 

Rejoice through chagrin. 

10.20 - Turning

Wood stove is quiet,

though just barely. Toes shiver -

Fall beckons the trees. 

10.21 - Harnessed

Dad stands on the roof

of the garage he built with

his brain and two hands. 

10.23 - Times Have Changed

I have a day bed -

two mattresses, but no friends. 

Just soak up the dust. 

Dear Future Husband

(à la Robert Morgan, Dark Energy) 

Love me like Jesus loves the church.

Affirm your commitment with words;

songs or poems or handwritten

letters. Buy me office supplies:

pens and notebooks and notes that stick.

Curl my belly with your witty

morbidity, and don’t forget

to let the dog in at night. Live

with passionate ambition, tell

me every tiny detail while

I whip up two mugs of fresh brewed

tea. Be a reader, sponsor my

love of language. Activate your

soul’s depth with exercise; please join

my yoga sessions later in

the morning. Don’t make a habit

of spitting, and pay attention

to the sidewalk under your boots,

the drumming patterns of raindrops.

Remember to treasure me all

of our lives, for someday, darling,

when dim stars edge the ebbing blush,

I will return to ash and dust.