bottle rocket haiku
The following poems appeared in the journal bottle rockets.
orange on gold
the sun sets
on the sheriff’s star
i believe i’ll float awhile
before i settle . . . dust
autumn
the terrible weight
of even the lightest leaf
for a moment
i thought he wrote haiku—
my father’s address book
up and up away from the child’s hand memory
a breeze passes . . .
the last light of day
lets you go
searching for matches as he speaks
twelve days sober
watermelon seeds
the shape of mother’s tears
THAT picnic
new winter coat
the meaning of life
in button holes
his name . . . not on the wall
a suicide after the war
bombed berlin
the chalk messages of people
searching for people
fall
we give the puppy
its name
lunch break on a slow day
the dogcatcher licks his fingers
spring rain
an hour passes
with nowhere to go
they split apart–
delicate things,
atoms & parents
truants
an education
on the edge of town
homeroom
i wonder what the absent boys
are doing
those early dates
when we kissed goodnight
until morning