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Issue #42, Flagstaff Mountain, Boulder, Colorado, November 23, 2002 Haiku: Patrick Lynn, Jonathan Machen, Sara Benson, Susan Peterson Photos, drawing and layout: Jonathan Machen




the green pine needles
against the blue sky remind me of
green pine needles

my shoe-framed by the
blue and white patterns of
clouds and sky

i feel so lucky
every moment a blessing
of friends and nature

not fooling anyone
sara walks up shedding bits
of bark and pine needles

no sign of the snow
they say will come down tonight
though it is quiet

old flattened cactus
wrinkled in november sun
awaits the next snow




dozing off - and then
opening my eyes to a different
pattern of clouds

drop of clear liquid
suspended from the cold tip
of his beak-like nose

hiker in new boots
holds her hands out as she walks
nail polish still wet

mountain scenery
reminds me of 'bonanza'
reruns after school

i walk slowly
listening to gravel crunch
each step intentional

looking at mountains
feeling the earth beneath me
i sense my place




once again
indiscriminately happy
sitting in the sun

lit up by the sun
a circle of sap oozes
it's limb long gone

ouch, that hurts
my hard nipples against wool
why women wear bras

gentle, diffuse light
illuminates pink granite
and distant laughter

ambulance siren
down below - echoes through the
snow covered peaks




we all have our strange
difficulties in this life
and our strange reactions

rocks, trees, earth and sky
the murmur of an airplane
a pinecone crashes

on this hard rock throne
i sit on the edge of the world
open to learning

evergreens
but sometimes
dusty

all i want to do
is curl up under my down
comforter and sleep




Collabora-ku: Sara, Susan, Patrick,
Krista, Jon

many cold people
getting the bottoms of their shorts wet
i sit on the edge

losing consciousness
everything seems so easy
the stillness of stone

on this hard rock throne
leaning outside of time,
who says it's lonely?

a prairie dog speaks
this morning and tells me
she feels inadequate




silent vitality
each day more purple flowers
in our own backyard

dozing off and then
feeling the earth beneath me
rose petal on her heart

clinging to the warmpth
i am a salamander
at home in a new place

ouch, that hurts
wrinkled in the november sun
my haiku buddies

old man peers out
instinctively finding
his crystal wand





solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen