Path through leaves
light feet
forgetting hurry.
Almost Haiku: Seventeen
Tag: Almost-Poems
Shadow Garden
Meet me in the shadow garden
when the last yellow window falls asleep.
Tiptoe past the lilac
and the nameless flowers of the night.
Wear a long rustling dress
let your hair loose
come barefoot.
But don’t bring your words with you,
not even a greeting.
Words are what people make
when they try to understand one another.
We know better than to talk
when the night is quiet
and the world is dark.
Come here in this windy nook
which midnight has forgotten.
Remember what you were
before things had names.
The longing that you bring
is the distant cry
of an unseen bird.
And our embrace
is the alchemy of matter
transcending its place.
A Window Without a Face
Have you ever passed under the window
of an old, abandoned house?
Have you ever looked up,
yearning for a beautiful face
on the other side of the glass?
Something about once proud houses
now fallen into ruin
that makes you slow down your step.
A family once lived there.
A man or a woman built it with hope.
They are gone now.
They have rented it indefinitely to the silence and the cold.
Once proud, now falling apart, an old house weathers the storm waiting to be sold.
It weeps rain through the roof
It shivers through the cracked windows
It gathers dust.
Walk softly by it
so you won’t disturb the ghosts
who glance at you from the crumbling window
even as you go.
Who secretly wish you were the one
who will finally climb up the steps
and open the door.
boy with a hat 