An admission of guilt
That I never became
The man I promised
When first we twinkled
...
In my washed-out years
When I oft cheated death,
I dwelled in a land
Where mangoes rained down
...
There are no lies
In this backyard kingdom
Where creation spirals
Within your shell,
...
I surf too little, I work too much...and sometimes I write.)
Haiku Wind
I like it best when
The wind bullies graying hair
Into Einstein tufts
I remember the day I taught all the tower buds to write haiku Barry Smith wrote: Love will surely wilt/ like a thousand red roses/ when nipped in the bud