costume/1 haiku

Wind costumed for change
Warmth as impatient chauffeur
Today parades spring


Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt #188

A daughter quickly
Slips from girl to woman
Time tries catching up

Shh. Quick.
Slip on.  Slip down.  Slip
In.  To my arms.


The antics of syntax ripple through
the icy water of reasonableness.

My brain,
an insufferable catalogue of monosyllables.

To all the poets, I sympathize.



Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head
Suntan Barbie married Suntan Ken
Pac-Man and Ms. Pac-Man
I’ve been married nearly 30 years
Oh the games we play

In response to

Cratered Flirt

Road to sky to moon
My double knotted shoes
My puffing breath
My narrow view
Of the super blue blood lunar eclipse moon

Nothing needs help from me
The road remains reliably horizontal
The sky dutifully accommodates clouds, stars and wishes
The moon endlessly phases, manipulates and inspires
Such a sneaky, dusty rock

The shifty thing
It drew me out
Laced me up
To watch the jumbo, color enhanced, star studded eclipse
Only to slowly and defiantly pull a cloudy blanket
Over the show
What a cratered flirt

Janus probably smiled
The last day of his month
Granting a vision of bright to cloudy
Over this suburban asphalt
Asphalt, a kind of transition
An abstract concrete
Aggregate to moon rock
Potholes to craters
Gutters to riverbeds
Manholes to volcanoes

Don’t we all run
In our own world
A private satellite
Hatted and mittened for
Transition and tide?

Just remember
A lunar eclipse is
The same moon
Teasing us all.


Morning After All

The neighborhood, dark.
It’s five-thirty in the morning, after all.

The neighborhood, cool.
It’s January, after all.

Two great horned owls on a roof.
It’s the suburbs, after all.

Exchanging hoo, hoo, hooting.
A low baritone purr, after all.

I stop my run to look up.
Hope not to stifle the owl-y incantations, after all.

Two morning rooftop silhouettes.
Me, recipient of the benediction, after all.

Owl meditation mixes with mine.
Look! there’s the sunrise, after all.



The mockingbird who nests
at the top of
the front yard maple
visits the back yard deck
for lunch.

Front and back.
Front and back.
Suet and seed.
Suet and seed.

afternoon humdrum.

The woman who lives
inside of
the house
visits the kitchen
for lunch.

Table and chair.
Table and chair.
Soup and sandwich.
Soup and sandwich.

afternoon humdrum.

Sharing the hour, but never our dreams.


Loose Library Thoughts

Wedges of unanimous unity with upright inky myths, both real and imagined.

Gazillion sanctimonious crosswords held idle for idols.

Call numbers ringing.  Who will answer?

Funding short, but not the dreams.

One for all and all for one in candid, devious and garrulous dust.



white terry robe of snow
slowly sliding south
down the shingles

the eave’s nurtured icicles

white terry robe haunting the kitchen
slowly sliding south
down morning’s conjecture

the counter percolating coffee

You walk in
I melt

Good morning, you


2 haiku/shock

Winter oxygen
Invisible narcotic
Unconfined ether


Wavelengths tease winter’s self-rule
Eight degree sunshine