ㅁ The rain and the snow alternated while clouds passed. But I heard a bird.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Month: January 2021
Caveat: Tree #728
This tree saw a sprinkling of snow.
[daily log: walking, 3.5km]
Caveat: Poem #1628 “A boatless sail”
ㅁ The wind absconded with the big dirty white tarp. So I put it back.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #727
This tree is along the road to town.
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 6hr]
Caveat: Poem #1627 “Nope”
ㅁ Do you really think anyone's going to read all these dumb haikus?
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #726
This tree is working with another tree to frame the pre-dawn light.
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 6hr]
Caveat: Poem #1626 “Fragmented reality”
ㅁ Shards of reaction against a world not well-known scatter through our minds
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #725
This tree stood guard over the newly re-wrapped RV. It was a lot of work getting that wet tarp back over it.
[daily log: walking, 3.5km]
Caveat: Poem #1625 “The recurring maps in my dreams”
ㅁ Dreamed I searched for a book but failed to find wandered cities, towns the tierra caliente in Mexico's humid south a book of hand-drawn maps appeared the man refused to sell it to me
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #724
This tree happened to notice that the strong winds of the last few days had disrobed my RV. I put down some rocks to weight it down, and will try re-wrap the machine once this rainstorm dies down (in Spring?).
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Poem #1624 “Parallel”
ㅁ The tree took two paths: both were upward wanderings, both sought out the sky.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #723
This tree took two paths skyward.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km]
Caveat: Poem #1623 “Thirty-second stanza”
ㅁ Kiamon struggled to push on alone, lacking the help her ancestors had known. Dancing the stories she'd learned as a child, Ghosts only watched like shy beasts in the wild.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
Caveat: Tree #722
This tree is among its peers on the hillside.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km]
Caveat: Poem #1622 “More than seven”
ㅁ How many raindrops? Well, it seems like quite a few. So I stopped counting.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #721
This tree is a “guest tree” from that past. I took this picture at the Veterans Administration Hospital in Portland, in June, 2018. That’s downtown Portland and the Williamette River in the background.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km]
Caveat: Poem #1621 “Inhumanism”
ㅁ Robinson Jeffers was a poet who felt that humans were bad news.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #720
This tree stood guard near my little greenhouse.
[daily log: walking, 2km; retailing, 7hr]
Caveat: Poem #1620 “Midwestern interlude”
ㅁ thunder and lightning: rare in southeast Alaska; but this morning, boom!
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #719
This tree is practicing some social distancing with the utility pole.
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 7hr]
Caveat: Poem #1619 “Each poem reflects its time of composition”
ㅁ Sitting each morning to write poems yields only morning thing poems.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #718
This tree noticed I had built a fire, as smoke rose from the chimney.
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 6hr]
Caveat: Poem #1618 “The air takes action”
ㅁ Wind solid transparent ephemeral touches of cold air damp with the falling rain making the trees' branches wave and lash at the resistant sky until at last it yields to the dawn.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #717
This tree touched a rainbow. Mostly, though, it touched rain.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Poem #1617 “Teleology”
ㅁ Dark mornings surrounding meditations on the topic of the purpose of living and the vague expectations that arise quotidianly and then fade like a gust of wind.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #716
This tree is along the road to town.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Poem #1616 “The procrastinator’s plan”
ㅁ No, I haven't, yet. No, it's a work in progress. No, I'll start it, soon.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #715
This tree is one I saw in Gwangju, South Korea, in April of 2010.
[daily log: walking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #1615 “Unchanged”
ㅁ The year rolled over; it seems the same as the last: Trees, rain, rocks, clouds, days.
– a pseudo-haiku.