Ascetic Dilemma

I'm easy to please
With little, but I never
Meant that he should want.
Now used to going without,
How do I help him rake in?

What You Turn From

The saddest aspect 
Of anorexia is,
Romance requires food.
So much intimacy lost.
Sharing of subsistence, lost.

I'm on the outside
Of the crucial traditions,
Far from recipes
And family gatherings,
Elfin, alien, lonely.

Nothing like blossoms

Nothing like blossoms
Which flare to life for the next
Generation, cut
By their very existence;
Who will gather our petals?

Although, our seasons
Are likewise short, aren't they?
Billions of heads raised
To the sun; but are we such
Things that never bloom again?

Who I love the most

Who I love the most
Says his life is horrible;
I agree. The worst
Thing is it seems so solid
There's no way to improve it.

Those poor summer days

Those poor summer days
Whose breezes are kisses, quick
To end. Temperate days,
Exuberant with brief gold.
My tears can't bring them to Fall.

Woodpeckers don’t fall

Woodpeckers don't fall
Even when they're upside-down.
Gravity may pull
Yet they trust in their nature,
Always light and fast enough.

Sandhill Cranes

Swaying red poppies,
The sandhill cranes make their way 
Pacing so slowly;
Such days are gifts to watch traipse,
Though always away from me.

Myrtle and Magnolia

The master grafted
A myrtle branch to a bough
Of magnolia;
At times more white blooms than black,
But the forms their mixture makes!

Deeper, narrower

Deeper, narrower,
Remote as Weeki Wachee's
Caves are my love's straits.
Inaccessible, and yet
The dream is to descend there.

Creatures of mischief

Creatures of mischief
Sit at the great game's table
While blazing spirits
Rage beneath the surface. Joy:
The geyser, Fate's to control.