Haiku XIX

dragonfly hovers
summer still-life in motion
above rippled stream

leh

Haiku XVIII

redwoods sway, succumb
to the wildfire's siren call
fall one week away

text & photo by leh

Haiku XVII

child carries bucket
filled with water, stones beneath
her callused, bare feet

leh

The Star of Bethlehem

While the newlyweds sealed their vows,
I glanced upward through redwood boughs
to see the convenant of Venus and Jupiter
that would guide our way out of the canyon
into the valley of lights and home beyond.
 
And I wondered if two millennia ago           
three Magi witnessed this celestial glow
near Regulus and the crescent Moon,
it guiding them out of Galilee to unveil
a precious child born king of Israel.


text & photo by leh



The Scent of Almond Blossoms

On early March mornings, as tule fog
begins to lift in California’s Central Valley,
winter’s skeletons transform into trees
and a blush of almond blossoms
carpet orchard floors.

Most every morning, I’d walk through
the dappled light of the alabaster canopy
until I reached the canal, where I’d sit,
adjust my headphones, and lean back
against the scaly bark of my familiar tree

Getting high on the scent of almond blossoms,
nature’s perfume, while Miles’ sweet-cream
trumpet played Gershwin’s “Summertime”
when the livin’ was easy
when the trees were still young

Before the scent of burnt almond

permeated the autumn sky—
before the Valley nodded off
for another winter, when the trees—
and I—were still young.


text & photo by leh

Haiku XV, XVI

XV

hummingbird hovers
so close I feel its wings’ breeze
cool my parchment lips

XVI

pollen everywhere
on mesquite, under mesquite
wafting in spring air


text & photo by leh

One Day In May

Hey, Sis
how’ya doin’?
I know, dumb question.
I got here in time--
didn't I?
Driving from Vegas
memories of
our crazy sister shit
raced through my mind.
The desert does that—
focuses, clarifies.
Can you hear me?
It’s a beautiful day
the sun is out – no fog –
the ocean sparkles –
diamonds and sapphires.
Remember the last time
we sat on Capitola Wharf?
So vibrant
like a Van Gogh painting—
starry, starry afternoon—
boats bobbing on the bay.
Forgive my babbling.
Does it bother you?
Wish I could cry
feel – something.
God, I miss you.

Here, let me lay beside you.
I’ll keep you warm.


text & photo by leh