ㅁ This one tree stands there, tall, and older than others; up top, raven talks.
– a pseudo-haiku.
ㅁ I sleep on the floor, as I've always. Maybe it's camping memories? It's a strange pattern, I know. Is it simplicity? Asceticism? Connection to unyielding, spinning, earth?
– a nonnet.
ㅁ Before morning's light chill darkness laps at the walls; you can hear the water.
– a pseudo-haiku.
ㅁ A bird hops along... The logging slash, like driftwood: White bones of progress.
– a pseudo-haiku.
ㅁ Tree. Raven. Looking down. There, on the road . Those primates again. So speak a word to them. Suggest a course of action. Paint a universe without signs. No? Then nevermind, I'll fly away.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ for now, the dreams come: trees beckon, wave in the wind, while the night sweeps in.
– a pseudo-haiku.
ㅁ The sea manifests its scale, body curled, an unworldly, diving whale shows its tail.
– an englyn of some kind.
ㅁ We hiked to the top of Sunnahae, which is the mountain behind Craig. The lower slopes were all logged, but higher, old trees grow, tangled with damp bogs until the ridge - all treeless - alpine grass.
– a nonnet.
ㅁ The sea tugs at the cool stones, the ebb tide takes sticks to ride, floating bones of trees, groans.
– an englyn of some kind.
The dream, being a dream, unfolded,
leaving a twisted detritus
of disconnected visions
across the predawn’s glow,
until, looking up,
I blinked to see
– hovering –
a pink
cloud.
ㅁ It's not all rainbows; you see, there's also some rain. It keeps the trees green.
– a pseudo-haiku.
ㅁ Heart and mind undertake to comprehend the patterns on maps, the skyward reach of trees, the traces left by raindrops, the secret yearnings of lost ghosts, but the wind's voice speaks only wishes.
– a pseudo-haiku.
ㅁ Fish Have fought - Even died - In these waters, That lie flat and smooth Or heap themselves like hills, Flashing blue or green in sun, Or dimpling false smiles under rain, Covering chthonic topologies.
– a reverse nonnet.