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Issue #166 Eldorado Springs State Park April 10, 2016

Haiku: Sara Benson, Susan Evans, Patrick Lynn, Jonathan Machen

she went to Belgium
for a spiritual retreat
and a dose of jihad

from a distance
the reassuring sound of
beak on dead wood

looking up at cliffs
while climbers climb
and trains roll past

forces so vast
yet so silent
patiently heaving

stepping over a
puddle of melted snow
cool air on my face

land mostly barren
the pinecones are ginormous
hint of sex appeal

i can feel the geological
swell of time
forming in this place

approached in this warm
meadow by my old friend and
coping mechanism - sleep

is deer poop
everywhere, or just everywhere
i choose to sit

everywhere - the new
chartreuse green against dry tan
inviting me in

an otherwise apparently dead
crabapple, covered in green buds

snow-matted grasses
pierced with dandelion
and invasive spurge

floral abundance
about to burst forth from
tiny light green nodules

tip toeing across
twisted chain of earth’s backbone
light as a feather

heel toe, heel toe
how many steps does it take to
pound out this grief?

these tiny little
purple and white flowers must
be cold in the breeze

jon appears then
disappears into the gnarl of
burnt and broken trees

how many words and
syllables does it take to
express speechlessness?

one by one
a community of nuthatches
visits this pine branch

is this new world a
place everyone else has always
already been?

the edge of winter
dissolving into spring
bluster and release

petrified sand dunes
my fingers want to trace
the sensuous curve

where nothing could grow
in rock strata inclined
pine grace fully holds

the ashram
meditatively clinging
to edge of uplift

purpose, connection
violence, separation
all on this one earth

ponderosa pine
grows straight out of sandstone rock

times of desperation
ever-renewing nature
offers hope each spring

a tiny raindrop
delivered by the wind to
my upper lip

also comforting
the stream quietly going
about it’s business

solitary pasque
visited by lonesome bee
on forlorn hill

subdued hikers
not yet entirely comfortable
with spring

slipping on a smooth rock
i wake to the fact that
i am alone here

quiet spring day
of wind and sun
belie the aging earth

avoiding the smooth ruts
in the gravel road-each
step a nice crispy crunch

solo/group kukai
jonathan machen