“rain on the skylight” – Spring Haiku

rain on the skylight
drumming up warm echoes
monsoons on tin roofs


tasking satellites – Haiku in Symmetry – Google mapping the past

tasking satellites
i trace these grainy roads to
find my push-pinned heart
in a grainy field
by a church, graves like pixels
tasking satellites

at local harvest

tea tree soap scent wakes
feelings with no memory
such strong attraction


Local Harvest is here, pricey but good, food and coffee (with refills).

Addendum: It perhaps is tedious to explain a poem and it may rob it of any power it might have had, but the feelings the smell of that soap elicited this morning were from some place and time long, long ago, which I truly do not have any memory of, though it was in Pakistan, I am sure, and most likely at some summer garden party. Part of the reason I wanted to write the poem is that I am constantly fascinated by the power of smell to both excite attraction and elicit memory. My remembered sensation this morning must have been very like this passage from T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” a poem with which I have some resonance, but, thank the Lord, not to a pathetic level ๐Ÿ™‚
Full poem here.

And I have known the arms already, known them allโ€”
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?