I get a bad case of poison ivy nearly every spring — and it's usually thanks to my dogs or cats.
They go stomping through the woods, break the tender stalks and leaves, and come home dripping with the toxic oil.
I pet them. Naturally. That's just what I do.
It is hard to maintain suspicion, skepticism, fear or anger on a morning walk but poison ivy doesn't bring out the best in a girl.
Haiku 8
Oh, poison ivy —
fresh and pretty but so mean,
dusting the dog's coat.
Public art is nothing so much as a concrete expression of hope —
that beauty still matters, even in this mad, mad world…
that we as people can come together around it…
that there is value in pausing and breathing and taking note.
These pretty strings of glass buoys in a canal in Scottsdale said all that to me.
Haiku 7
Glass, light, reflection
punctuate the waterway,
say: pause, stop, wow, why.
A weekend away is made evermore potent if palm trees are involved.
Don't you think?
Haiku 6
Palm tree as symbol:
Nothing that I have to do
except write haiku
To me, hiking is the ultimate in multi-tasking:
Take in fresh air? Check.
Get exercise? Check.
Absorb beauty? Roger that.
Mediate? Ooom.
Commune with companions? Yep.
And on and on.
I love how it both grounds me and sets me free.
Today was no exception.
Haiku 5
Saguaro reaching
for the available sky.
No need for deep roots.
This morning I flew to Phoenix for a little work and a little pleasure.
It was dark when I left Austin and brightening when the high desert came into view.
To me, there is nothing like an airplane ride (even an airplane ride in a cramped regional jet after a long slog through security) to give a gal a fresh perspective.
Haiku 4
Sunrise over wing
World wakes up to day down there
Clear from way up here
We wait and wait and wait for rain around here.
Last night, it came.
Haiku 3
The dry creekbed floods —
one rain changes everything!
A surprised dog swims.
I traveled by bus to Houston today with my daughter and her entire 6th grade.
It was a long and noisy trip, but also a heavy one — we were visiting the Holocaust Museum there.
The students were amazing in the museum — quiet, wide-open, receptive, empathic.
It was a lot to take in, even for the adults in the group, and they did so beautifully.
So, at the end of the day when morning rain had cleared and the doors swung open, it was no wonder that the kids exploded into a nearby park like a flock of birds. It was a sweet and beautiful thing…
Haiku 2
Hundreds of students
School's out and the rain's stopped
Here's spring's candy cane!
April!
Spring!
My birthday month!
My sweetheart's birthday month!
And — ta da — National Poetry Month!
Each year I love it and each year I celebrate by writing and sharing a haiku every single day of the month.
This year is no exception — and what better reason to re-invigorate my sorry and neglected blog?
For the next month you'll find my haiku here, and/or on my facebook, and/or via my Twitter account.
And I'd like YOU to keep me company by writing haiku of your own. You can share yours in the comments here or on facebook, or with your own tweets. And I just may feature some of them in my occasional wrap-up posts along the way! Plus, at the end of the month, guess what? Prizes! So, let me know if you're in and then get on with it! Can't wait to read what you come up with…
Here's mine:
Haiku 1
Not a breath of wind
Kites hang hopeful in the tree
We all yearn for flight
It's been a good long while since I've posted here,
but I'm so excited to share that my newest picture book releases today!
THINK BIG, illustrated by the vivid and imaginative Vanessa Brantley Newton,
is a celebration of all things art. And when I say all things I mean all things.
(Including cooking? Yep.
Knitting? Yep.
Photography? Yep.
Pottery, writing, drawing, song? Yep yep yep yep.)
If you want to know more about the how's and why's of that, here's a guest post I did at Cynsations today, thanks to the graciousness of author extraordinaire Cynthia Leitich Smith!
(And you should definitely pop over there if you'd like a copy of THINK BIG because there's a giveway!!! Wahoo!)
And if you'd like to know what the kind folks at Kirkus think of the book, you can have a look here. (That mention of Glee is, surely, the closest I'll ever get to having a TV show of my own so yay for that!)
But, blah blah blah and linkety link.
What I REALLY want to say is this.
It is summer. There are kids on vacation all over, at least, the northern hemisphere.
And there is a lot of competition for their attention.
Video games, blockbuster matinees, swimming and sleeping in and reading for pleasure.
There are also just an endless array of fun, creative, self-inspired artistic opportunities at their fingertips.
Maybe they'll make a pinata!
Or learn how to finger-knit!
Or write and direct and perform a play (like the truly renown Mystery at Palm Hotel I did with my cousins about 35 years ago).
Whatever it is, I hope you'll let them make a mess, make some noise and THINK BIG!!!
Well, it's been awhile since my beloved Poetry Sisters and I
have banded together to make merry.
Life, as you know, interferes.
But as we chatted during National Poetry Month,
we thought of an easy way to rectify that:
haiku!
We worked together on a renku — a string of haiku and 2-lined stanzas — linked seasonally and semantically.
Andromeda debuted it on her blog this morning and I'm going to share it here, too:
The Poetry Sisters' Daisy Chain
fall leaf in April
wearing last season's fashions–
shunned by the green crowd lps
nature’s first green is gold
progeny emerge in flame aj
white melts into green
gardens blush Crayola proud
blooming shades of spring tsh
strolling down the pebble path
rose-cheeked dreamer lost in thought aj
palest pink dogwood
April breezes whisper by
petals flutter down kf
ink dries on palest pages
garden rows plow down sillion aj
Brash green garter snake
Hoe laid beside June daisies
Book and tart limeade sh
serpent jewel, puckered words,
work abandoned, glory claimed aj
afternoon drifts by
wispy clouds, half-closed eyelids
distant playground sounds lps
cloud congestion, dully pewter
petrichor from distant patters td
tapped on leaden skies td
rain’s persistent percussion
arrhythmic ad lib
a morse-code chicken scratch lgs
a fresh start too hard to resist
the rain leaves its mark — lgs
such an inscrutable plot
begs to be re-read
red again so soon and down
persimmon fingers shiver aj
(Much love and credit to Laura Purdie Salas, Andromeda Jazmon, Tricia Stohr-Hunt, Kelly Fineman, Sara Lewis Holmes and Laura Purdie Salas…)
Visit Wild Rose Reader for Poetry Friday today.