her tongue glints silver:
flash-forward—a teen tongue pierced?
no, just a sequin.

invisible pain
’til the thin gorge runs crimson:
yep, a paper cut.

Pity. The haiku is such an elegant art form, to be destroyed thusly.
Food-inspired verse:
(for m)
sand clings to baby,
slathered in sunscreen: sugar
on hot buttered roll.
(for c)
while you nap, others
buy lobster that will clamor
and die for dinner.
(for the fourth of july)
menu: red lobster, white
potatoes, blueberry pie:
God Bless the U.S.!

cheerios, kix, life:
wholesome triumvirate of
toddler nutrition.
blessed trinity:
each with its own benefits,
its own quirky charm.
behold cheerios:
granddaddy of the morning
breakfast ritual.
easy to pick up,
hard to avoid stepping on—
to dust they shall return.
kix: an enigma.
“is it sweet? is it savory?”
i wonder; she eats.
bulbous stalactite,
an edible cocklebur,
dangling from her butt.
and then there is life:
a grand name for such mundane
pillows […]

I’m back from retreat.
C’s face looks different, but how?
It’s just been two days.
I’m rested, stressed both:
Bay breezes, bald eagles, yet
Aaaaaa!!! So much to do!!!!
It’s blissfully cool,
A/C repair receipt sits
on kitchen table.
C at dinnertime:
“I have a baby too, see?”
And lifts up her shirt.
I have missed your blogs–
I just got caught up; now, bed,
Will write tomorrow.

Staff retreat beckons;
Three hours in car tomorrow,
Two days at the beach.
Heat advisory,
And yet, A/C is broken.
Poor, poor R and C.
Sermon this weekend:
No manuscript, just notes
Of less than a page.
C’s big girl panties
Dry as a bone all day long;
Stickers awarded.

Sun-shaft on the floor:
“Can I splash in the puddle?”
We nod, and she jumps.
That happened this morning.
Incidentally…
I’ve been writing stuff down since I could write stuff down. And I always enjoyed learning about and writing haiku, even in elementary school.
Does anyone else remember the cinquain? It seems kind of the black sheep of poetic forms. I […]

—
too many donuts.
where did my youthful butt go?
damn you, cellulite.
—
your molars peek through,
you push all my buttons—you’re
definitely two.
—