haiku

inside the drawer:candles, tape, owner manuals,that one key ... somewhere

a lifetime spentlonging for the freedomto never speak again

that feeling whenothers accept you as you arebut you do not

"All the medicine we needis in our garden,"grandmother promised.

etched in my memory--a late-night train rumblingbehind the back fence

perennial gardenlesson learned:deers enjoy bee balm

hanging from the vinenot ready to be picked:three cucumbers

in the sun's heati look to the barometerfor signs of wind

unseasonably hot--even the trees by the riverare looking for shade

good-natured dogeager to play with the bearin the back yard

in the gardenripening strawberriesguard the front door

a cart filled with cansin the middle of the roadseeking redemption

around the maypolepeople dancing in circles--midsommar

as a child i prayedbecause i was afraid--death killed my fear

tuna casserolejust not right without the peas--we eat it anyway

the old mansees all days short and longas equal time gone

the old man walks homepushing a cart filled with cansenough for lunch

in the cornerthe giant copper wind bellwaits silently

before the sun risesradiators still heat the housein The County

grass, trees,tiny young strawberries–green is life