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Issue #3, Marshall Mesa, Boulder, Colorado. Haiku: Patrick Lynn, Krista Morien, Jonathan Machen. Drawings by Jonathan.
Jonathan, Krista, and I had a wild
and wooly time last weekend.
We went to the Marshall Mesa trail
and hung out under the bridge
gnashing our teeth at pedestrians and their dogs,
scaring the young children.
Wish you all could have been there. Patrick
im sure Krista knows
the name of this leafy bush
on which i'm peeing
grey winter day
my feet sink in the soft earth
of the empty stream
on this windy mesa
the mountains i know so well
hold themselves in the distance
airbrush orange and red
scoured by wind and water
cliffside of color
boulder open space
like a safety valve for dogs
left inside too long
from sea to coal fields
the many lives of the mesa
under my feet
a magpie flies by
in the silence created
by the constant wind
plastic doggie bag
protecting an errant turd
from the hikers feet
days pass and the snow
turns from white to muddy brown
grieving comes slowly
cold teeth and dogshit
today's haiku walk is off
to a shaky start
scattered pine needles
the thousands of haiku which
fell around Basho
in his colorful garb
patrick lurks among the trees
writing a haiku
bearer of the paw
places a finely shaped print
on her green trousers
february thaw
the muddy trails crowded with
cooped-up animals
Jonathan, Krista, and I had a wild
and wooly time last weekend.
We went to the Marshall Mesa trail
and hung out under the bridge
gnashing our teeth at pedestrians and their dogs,
scaring the young children.
Wish you all could have been there. Patrick
im sure Krista knows
the name of this leafy bush
on which i'm peeing
grey winter day
my feet sink in the soft earth
of the empty stream
on this windy mesa
the mountains i know so well
hold themselves in the distance
airbrush orange and red
scoured by wind and water
cliffside of color
boulder open space
like a safety valve for dogs
left inside too long
from sea to coal fields
the many lives of the mesa
under my feet
a magpie flies by
in the silence created
by the constant wind
plastic doggie bag
protecting an errant turd
from the hikers feet
days pass and the snow
turns from white to muddy brown
grieving comes slowly
cold teeth and dogshit
today's haiku walk is off
to a shaky start
scattered pine needles
the thousands of haiku which
fell around Basho
in his colorful garb
patrick lurks among the trees
writing a haiku
bearer of the paw
places a finely shaped print
on her green trousers
february thaw
the muddy trails crowded with
cooped-up animals
solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen