haiku
Waterlogged wood
Spins slowly in shallows as
Fresh wood rushes past
Random opinions. Pompous intellectual windbagisms. The yoga of anxiety. Easy predictions guaranteed.
28.XI.07
Who to cook for who to please
who to speak to when
the others leave
No song to sing for small audience
No time spent with her again
comfort and quiet
at easy rest
Across the snowy mountains
with her caged cat
to the coast and new hopes
And I am exposed
to a winter that is no friend
1.XII.07
I do not want the vacuity of non belief.
Somewhere between these
Is a fence to sit on
which simply does not exist.