#297: Front Yard Haibun

Mid April, that Japanese maple explodes first with leaves and the giant oak trees follow its little footsteps a few weeks later. It all happens at once. Most years no one sees it. One day there are no leaves. Next day a million leaves. The grass greens. There’s a hammock sometimes to nap in andContinue reading “#297: Front Yard Haibun”

#266: New Buildings–A Ghazal

We watched the four houses across the street destroyed for thirty-two new buildings, the surrounding trees and plants and invisible creatures unearthed for new buildings. In our old neighborhood, across that street, an outpatient hospital was demolished to make way for an entire block of townhomes, bringing new people into new buildings. This has beenContinue reading “#266: New Buildings–A Ghazal”

#191: On Walking Through My Neighborhood, Currently Under Construction, With the Time-Lapse Camera on My Phone

For day three of National Poetry Writing Month, I take a walk through my neighborhood, currently under construction, with a time lapse camera.  Here’s the poem I harvested on the experience. On Walking Through My Neighborhood, Currently Under Construction, With the Time Lapse Camera on My Phone “And it goes fast; you think of the past:Continue reading “#191: On Walking Through My Neighborhood, Currently Under Construction, With the Time-Lapse Camera on My Phone”

#124: Bricks and Windows, Windows and Bricks

“The way they boxed us in here. Bricks and windows, windows and bricks.” –Willy Loman, Death of A Salesman, Arthur Miller   In my old neighborhood they tore down an abandoned psych hospital for new town homes. There was no big loss, the end of an era polluted by horrific scenes of suicidal escapees, children being committed againstContinue reading “#124: Bricks and Windows, Windows and Bricks”