in her brown eyes,

I see twinkling lights and

pure joy reflected-

decorating

the evergreen...

gathered together,

we give thanks and raise a toast

to family-

sweet tea

in paper cups

your shadow
meshes with mine-
bedtime stories


holding you
in the quiet hours-
pillow talk


into our bed
she crawls-three foot tall
alarm clock

Exhale

Finding myself
at the end of a day
that felt like three-
water rushes into the tub
as thoughts rush out
of my crowded mind.

Steam rises and I carefully slip
into my own little pool
of tranquility-
enveloped in warmth,
breathing in and out,
the sweet aroma
of lavendar and serenity.

At once I am forced
to make a deliberate choice
not to notice
my chipped toenail polish
or the size of my hips,
perhaps a half inch closer
to the side of the tub
than this time last year…

"No," I say to myself-
to-do lists and little vanities
will be there tomorrow...
In this moment I decide
only to listen to these soft bubbles
bursting on my skin
and the exhale of a day’s end,
not a moment too soon.

hooked on

his intoxicating charm-

crescent moon

Crooked

I posted this haibun a few days ago. I made some changes to it (Don't you love the process of writing? Some pieces are ever-evovling). Here is the new version. I just received word that it is going to be published in the Spring 2010 volume of Simply Haiku. I've very excited!

"I'm a crooked kind of perfect," she wrote in her journal when asked to describe herself. My students never cease to amaze me. What insight! What wisdom! Eleven years to her credit and she has already accomplished what took me almost three decades. There for the world to see is her brave declaration of self-acceptance, scribbled in number-two lead. I only wish I had learned to love my own beautiful imperfections at such a tender age. I print an 'A' in red ink at the top of the page, giving her so much less than she has given me.

knowing smile-
her braces
catch the light

autumn dreams of spring-

eagerly awaiting

the first rose bud

Take Me...

Take me away
to some secret place
where moonlight
shines...
falls...
drips onto my skin,
like silver raindrops- sliding
to that part of my cheek
where your hand takes over...

Take me away
to some shadowy place
where darkness
whispers...
lures...
hides us from the world,
'til I can only feel-seeing
you, not with my eyes,
but with my fingertips...

Take me away
to some quiet place
where silence
lives...
breathes...
inspires us to listen
closer than ever before-hearing
the music we make
when all the noise is gone...

finding myself

alone with Otis Redding

and cheap red wine-

“These Arms of Mine”

hold your empty pillow

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K-FQL-tJ3ic&feature=related

"I'm a crooked kind of perfect," she wrote in her journal when asked to describe herself. My students never cease to amaze me. What insight! What wisdom! Eleven years to her credit and she has already accomplished what took me almost three decades. There for all the world to see in number two lead lies her brave declaration of self-acceptance. I only wish I had learned to love my own beautiful imperfections at such a tender age. I scribble an 'A' in red ink at the top of the page, giving her so much less than she has given me. The teacher becomes the student once again.

caterpillar

finds her voice-

who needs wings?

his grin says it all-

autumn morning spent speaking

our secret language

(in response to Paul's post on Paper Moon today...and of course, dedicated to my husband Derek)

talking to myself-

a robin pecks away

at dead wood

memories,

like ghosts in the closet,

remnants of our past-

a prom dress tucked away

in a dusty box

*************************************************

I blush

thinking about the promise

of tomorrow-

a new red dress

I haven't shown you yet...

***************************************************

(For my husband)

the distant moon

uncovered as clouds move

into November-

yesterday's mask

discarded