SeptHaikuWriMo 8

The grass must have learned 
their lesson by now—or not
they just keep growing

SeptHaikuWriMo 7

A year is measured
with a difference these days
how many decades

did the last month hold
how old were we when we met
older than right now

first when you are born
then the rest is history
as evidenced by

to the contrary
how little we remember
of our soon past selves

how we look forward
through a spinning carousel
still at the center

SeptHaikuWriMo 6

No reason to stay 
outside all day except for
diminished returns

knowing that less light
will reach our eyelids straining
the coming season

trees lose their luster
perhaps never to return
not in the same way

as if we could know
where we go when the leaves fall
before their time comes

when they should be here
sheltering us from the light
we soak in all day

SeptHaikuWriMo 5

No reason to stay
inside all day except for
the drear of it all

season is ending
before the next one begins
constant placeholder

standing in place of
a direct experience
nowhere to be seen

future is prologue
deja vu all that is left
slight variations

SeptHaikuWriMo 4

It makes the most sense
that young children keep in touch
closest to the dead

from start to finish
they know each relative to
places they had been

the same as when friends
rejoin after months or years
they remember when

they saw each other
last—and even if it feels
it had been longer

they know it was just
yesterday—what we awoke
to find this morning

SeptHaikuWriMo 3

Suddenly autumn
side effect of disaster
no alternatives

Neighborhood might change
but not enough to notice
how it used to be

Something in the air
leaves burning or the debris
piled on the sidewalk

Selves being marked safe
storms now traverse the country
keep getting stronger

Weather is clearing
how do we know it’s over
another forming

SeptHaikuWriMo 2

A flood is only
human—it just can’t wait to
get back on the stage

SeptPoWriMo 1

What if we have run
completely out
of novelty

a world without war
or hundred year floods
or bodily autonomy

a boiling frog
only learns it is water
with remnants of memory

to know it might not
have been this way
driving into flood waters

from the vantage of a basement

AugPoWriMo 31

The first day of school 
photos in my feed
will just not stop

nor will I let them
I insist on every flick
of my wrist another

half masked reveler
in their chalkboard attire
proclaiming their faith

in attainable goals like
moving back and forth
between one room to

the next and home again
within the same circle
of almost nearly friends

sharing ideas and air
not squares filled in
by some faceless study

of how shambolic this
whole enterprise became
how we in our infinite

wisdom lead lambs to
laughter hoping in our
second language classes

the s pronounced is silent

AugPoWriMo 30

No one wants to live 
after the end of the story
of a story with no ending

much better to be
in the middle of things
where nothing much happens

in expectation of when
all the puzzle pieces fit
into a much larger puzzle

no one will ever take the time
to find out if it really was
part of the same picture

we never get around to seeing
having been bound to this
corner of the universe

collecting all these endings
that for all we know
never began to begin with