Author: cfblack
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Memory worm, ear infection
Hat and gloves kinda weather Stand at kitchen door Hot coffee in hand Chill wind in your face And mom in your ear “Shut the damn door! You weren’t born in a stable! Jesus was!” 11-3-21
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haiku for a feral cat
Black cat with white socks I call out, “Where are your shoes?” He stares right through me 10-28-21
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Descent to night
after last night’s rain you pick pine needles and leaves from the chair in your yard lay books, paper and pen on table long autumn shadows shorten quicker your cup of tea appears to remain full longer Fall’s debris fills the other chair no one is expected soon and you see no reason to prepare…
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The craftsman
He doesn’t miss a beat plays exactly as expected At the break You want to rearrange his kit force him to paint outside the lines 10-26-21
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autumn haiku for Lazarus
at the bottom of sky among dead leaves you linger rise up, walk in light 10-26-21
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haikus of autumn
before dawn shatters its lamp on the edge of the sky grey night shimmers blue sit in the half-light listen to leaves rattle death as they leap in air wheezing school bus and noisy garbage truck disturbs quiet solitude lined up side-by-side children and olive trash cans wait to be emptied dry cellulose leaves gathered…
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Dear Raphael
Paint me a laughing Madonna with postpartum belly rolls and hips Joseph in the foreground fashioning a new crèche Her wooly headed baby suckling a swollen nipple Little hands playing with her other breast All of them laughing and laughing at their good fortune 10-25-21
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The therapist
Perched on a park bench a squirrel prepares a nut for eating, chews away a bit of its protective cover, rolls it over and chews some more. Eventually, he cracks it open, eats the meaty center, drops the husk, looks up from his perch and begins watching me, watch him, watching me, watch him, watching…
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Innocent bystander
On a sidewalk where song only shakes stained glass Between breakfast and lunch on Sundays Rooted in the churchyard cemetery, hung over A brick wall built to keep out unbelievers A tree hands me a note on a blood red leaf Soul skeletons are attempting an escape Unwilling to be an accomplice to a prison…
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meditation in prime numbers, #17
in crowded empty spaces thick among tall trees grow shadows cool and dark 10-24-21
