RESPECT


On a wall near my kitchen hangs a whiteboard, a space for grandkids to draw or write or doodle. It also bears a list of household expectations in the form of an acrostic that spells RESPECT

In response to this week’s dVerse Poetics prompt on The Seven Grandfather teachings, I have expanded the acrostic, adding haiku (or haiku adjacent 5-7-5’s) to reflect on each point. Herewith: RESPECT.

Respond when spoken to.

nocturnal creatures
turn skyward their plaintive calls
answered by the night

Exhale, don’t explode.

fire breathes hot and harsh
wind goads it into fury
water stills the breath

Share

sun shines and rain falls
life-sustaining to us all
flowers do not hoard

Politeness

Wildlife etiquette?
Was the lion ever told
“Chew with your mouth closed?”

Expect good things

each spring life unfolds
hibernators search out food
seedlings seek the sun

Contribute

fast dive, talons splayed
the prey snagged and now airborne
there are mouths to feed

Tell the truth

“Who?” asks the barred owl.
“Me, me, me,” says the catbird.
Northern flicker laughs.

Fleeting Blossoms

While walking through the park, my dog Chules and I pause at an apple tree. I am drawn to the white-pink blossoms and the bees that float among them. Chules is more intrigued by the base of the trunk, and the invisible messages left there by other dogs. He lifts his leg and adds his own note to the trunk. 

cherry blossoms wane

pink petals carpet the ground 

apple tree looks on

Day 29 of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). In response to dVerse prompt: Haibun Monday: late cherry blossoms.

Elon’s Devil’s Fingers

Oh, Dyssie, suss out:

Bored gods gamble with your life.

Find allies. Fight back.

Elon’s devil’s fingers

Devil’s fingers (Clathrus archeri ), also known as octopus stinkhorn, is a  fungus which has a global distribution. In maturity it smells like putrid flesh.

“Dawn’s rosy fingers” is a recurring metaphor in Homer’s works, like The Odyssey, where it signifies the beginning of a new day and the start of events.

Forevermore (or less)


Love lasts forever.

Come to find out, forever

isn’t all that long.


Early bird post for April’s National / Global Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo).

The prompt: Write a poem based on, or responding to, a line of Emily Dickenson’s poetry. The line I chose was “Forever might be short.”

I hope to participate in the NaPoWriMo daily prompts for April again this year, but we’ll see how that goes. I’m one for one so far, and the month hasn’t even yet begun!