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Issue #139, Guy Hill, Colorado, November 11, 2007. Haiku poets Susan Coppage Evans, Krista Morien, Patrick Lynn, Sara Benson, Jonathan Machen, Sanjay Rajan, Hal Gimpelson and Leon Evans congregate near an old Stagecoach route in the hills above Golden Gate Park near Golden, Colorado. Photographs, layout and photo-illustrations by Jonathan.




how many noisy
haiku poets does it take
to create silence?




for a brief moment
the haiku group considers
just staying inside




buddhas on guy hill
years after the stagecoaches
have rumbled by




pausing for java
haiku poets chill out
by amping up




poets and artists
we congregate
for winter ku




unlikely fall heat
measuring haiku pulse
of november day




while other dogs play
dublin quietly rests
under rock and soil




laughter and coffee
no shortage of either
in this household




cowboy boot
holds it's own
against blue sky

photo by sanjay





what better way to use
the day's last light than to wash
everything in yellow




from this dusty rock
trees surrender to the
roll of the hillside




feeling his heart beat
and his slobber
soak through my jeans




roused from a buddha state
by the
buzzing of a bee




my thoughts the color
of this field of straw in the
warm afternoon light




silence lays itself down
on unprotected eyelids
bathed by warm sun




up thru dried grasses
spring green cap and shirt
patrick cries - wildlife




haiku, breath, haiku
haiku, picture, breath, haiku,
haiku, diaper, OOPS!




autumn light falls
in long golden strands
down the hillside




half-hearted attempt
to keep me from entering -
tousled barbed wire




my delicate skin
drinks in the november sun
nothing between us




moments of my life -
sunlit hilltops, shadowy canyons,
infinite mountains




the north face
where the pine trees gather
cool and quiet




in the emptiness
between this ridge and the next
an insect lights up




angular black rocks
florescent green lichens
day glow dreams




sara is sitting
dangerously near by
where i spread dog poop




blessings of haiku
fall from my friends' minds and hearts
earth gladly receives




old rock walls
bones of the earth - remain
true essence of this land




seeds fall away
revealing the delicate
translucency underneath




i lose the sparrows
when they fly into the
quiet mountain shadow




i too am stripping away
embellishment to sit
in this translucent net




over the edge.
deer shit.
oodles of it.




weathered buddha
dried grasses tickle his nose
he never moves




dirt road
my shadow
so clear




the freedom it takes
to sprout small green plants
from this parched and rambling earth




sitting buddha statues
slowly move a head or arm
alive with haiku




incredible path
not having to go far
to be here




sound of an airplane
it drenches my awareness
then it disappears




weathered old church pew
open to everyone
on this sage-y hillside




shades of blue
and shades of orange
shades of shades




crunch, crunch, crunch
dried grasses under foot
blue sky above




the top of guy hill
wind blowing gently on me
winter has my back




loneliness
atop guy hill
plenty of it




ever so delicate
nest of deer pellets
nestled amongst sage




centennial cone
rising out of the landscape
light or shadow play




happily walking the path
i once observed
from crutches on the porch




winter sun
and dry chacos
where is the snow?




sitting buddha
marks the hiking path
his nature or mine




patchwork of dark and light
rolls silently over
hillside swell




guy hill
guy and three dogs
what a guy thing!




dear leon,
taking moments
out to walk
and write poetry
- this is life
this is love
my love





solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen