These prairie hills trace my thoughts:
soft contours, rural nerves,
wheat-bristle folds of grey matter.
This is a snow covered field
and this is the past—dusted, waiting
for spring melt to shoot skyward.
Every time I pass this way
I smell harvest and burning palettes.
Wet earth.
Every time I pass this way
I see baled hay casting long sharp shadows
and old churches with […]
When night came
with its sharp teeth
clenched and quiet, it waited
for the slow curl of chimney breath
to float, white and heavy,
up to the amber sky.
this
is not a home
it muttered to a workman’s light
flickering through slits
in a ragged orange tarp.
not yet.
Rustling plastic
smothered hollow concrete
and snow-dusted plywood.
Somewhere in the distance,
beyond the ribs
of skinless condominiums,
a jet of flame broke […]
Back break legs strained shut the car door this is it / the last load the last box wedged between potted plants and black metal cd racks / close the screen door lock the patio turn out the lights / keys in the ignition storm clouds roll / the short drive to a new home […]
of days. cloud skitterover blasted ground
sheep’s head turningwithout its scorn pole.
a flat articulation
contact. the sun’sconstant. pressure
slippingfrom sleepless hills.
~ Patrick M. Pilarski
Patrick M. Pilarski is the co-editor of DailyHaiku, an international journal of contemporary English-language haiku. His first full collection, Huge Blue, will be released in Sept. 2009 […]
you barely see it.hook beak. itself
cooled magma. patient as
a watchtower,in silhouette.
its eyes. translatedwith knucklebones
the blazing sun.
~ Patrick M. Pilarski
Patrick M. Pilarski is the co-editor of DailyHaiku, an international journal of contemporary English-language haiku. His first full collection, Huge Blue, will be released in Sept. 2009 by Leaf […]
