fresh, crisp, light, cool—the
feeling of sleeping between
clean sheets in summer

a life incredible, vivid, excellent.
fresh, crisp, light, cool—the
feeling of sleeping between
clean sheets in summer
barefoot in summer—
thorns. chiggers. sweetgum balls …
and so here i sit
writing sad haiku while some-
where you are sleeping
hail bounced like popcorn
on the pavement, frozen for
only a moment
it is finished. and
because He lives, that means
this is not the end.
it is finished. what’s
the use of words now, Jesus?
silently, tears fall.
in spring the purslane
pops up underfoot
in winter the cold
corrugates the soul, crumpling
it up like paper
could the echo be
a candle in the darkness
bending the silence?
this morning the sun
streaked the sky with ruby wonder —
but i went back to bed