This sequence was composed after I met Shirley at the Liberty Theatre in Bend, Oregon where she was one of the artists for a presentation we did for the Haiku Society of America's annual meeting in 2011. Shirley is a fine friend and fantastic sumi-e brush artist artist as well as a poet.
Wildflower Chains
100 Verses (june 2011- june 2012)
by an'ya, USA and shirley sachiko kishiyama, USA
(Published February 2013, lynx)
in celebration
of an artistic weekend
a picnic for two
celadon sage tenders green
nourishment is light but sound
South Dakota–
a Sioux child born during
the calves grow hair moon
a river cuts the earth
salmon swim to their birthplace
carving her pumpkin
she releases the demon
hidden within
seeds drop to the ground and wait
for the next incarnation
period of peace
the kingfisher goddess nests
for its second week
because the pipes have frozen
stream water must be gathered
dearly beloved
the white limousine pulls
slowly away
a chariot is built
by connecting the stars
7-year itch
fallen from grace
both of them
the father of her daughters
has shattered her world
visitation–
matching palm prints
on prison glass
an octopus captures prey
the seahorse battles for its mate
hippie chicks
wildflower chains
around their necks
humpty-dumpty sits upright
on the vernal equinox
stone quarry
a giggling gelatinous
mass of eggs
opalisque gibbous moonrise
waxing through the film of fog
harvest festival
beneath a stiff mustache
grape stained lips
walnut skins stain the paper
swirls of cream in coffee
initials scribbled
on a ferris wheel seat–
departing carnival
traces of breath in the air
crystalline icy stasis
emergency room–
this recession much worse
than the wound
low tide in the afternoon
sucks energy from the soul
party crowd–
butterscotch brownies make
everyone high
and today
a warrior in the past
still thriving
albeit harsh conditions
little lichen
a facsimile of change
the creek begins melting
during courtship
a turtle dove stretches
tall and bows
ribbons on gay packages
hold a secret under wraps
blind date
straightening the cushions
on his sofa
he loved the doomed chanteuse
but he could not keep her safe
piece by piece
we discard a wood
jigsaw puzzle
visiting the continents
as if they were Pangaea
airplane cargo–
harvested bones and oil
from the catacombs
in the glow of tsukimi
poets write into the night
Japanese squid
protecting its hatch
releases its ink
black strands across the pillow
and dreams of waking with him
fifties couple
mooning over Kay Starr
on the phonograph
she fell spraining her right wrist
and cannot throw the frisbee
loud keening–
the Irish peasants
wear arm bands
our lady of Paris pets
her pack of thirsty gargoyles
tallest building
a window washer waves
at the crowd
surf scrambling across tide pools
refreshes anemones
coca-cola
a familiar pause
between sips
french fries with mayonnaise
cheese burger with everything
crossing the tracks–
a herd of hungry cattle
head for the barn
unseasonable flooding
train travelers are delayed
coping with drought
for nearly fifty years–
a farmer and his wife
tissues dry after chemo
only loving kindness left
welcome back
slobbering kisses
from a st. bernard
walk her down the aisle
a parting hug ends the psalm
race track
an announcer's blessing
starts the cars
plump gourd round as the moon
quietly waits to be pie
autumn evening
loud-colored squares
in her quilt
the town plaza promenade
deserted in november
city to city
a traveling salesman
knocks on doors
today they are side by side
stepping over the threshold
ain't got no money
to speak of and yet
we harmonize
a barrel cut in half
blooming lavender
waking of insects
a chillable red box
in the recycle
he believes death is final
yet the bare branch is budding
spilling over
into the afterworld
her gray locks
at long last the void
suffer those who resist
giving in
to fate or coincidence
hunter's moon
indigo to midnight blue
a curtain drops on the fields
corn shucking
Mennonite hands
in motion
I stared into your darkness
johnny I hardly knew you
strangers mourning
for a beached whale
washed ashore
it's a tradition to break
in the seventh inning stretch
gopher mound
a crocus pushes
through the dirt
digging in the garden
she doesn't hear the phone ring
southern spring
an iced tea glass scars
the mahogany
another hemisphere
the whirlpools are backwards
frequent flyer
my circadian rhythm
out of balance
still asleep hardly awake
a newborn starts the journey
mother's holiday
another fuschia basket
for her porch
hard to be happy in may
after last fall's falling out
fond memories
the soft breasts I used
to rest my head on
land once under the ocean
emerges like painted hills
solar eclipse
through welding glasses
third season moon
the arctic tern surpasses
those of us who seek warm climes
sudden aloneness
not a single goose
graces the pond
the pavilion is golden
whole ryoanji is plain
the suiseki
cannot find any as
perfect as you
please meet for tea before
it snows on the lake tai rocks
late supper
Christmas carolers
for dessert
coming back to the people
opera night in the taverns
the class clown
makes a fool of himself
college reunion
not too much sadder than
when there’s no one around
departing birds
it seems so early
to say farewell
the first day of painting class
I bring scones she brings mooncakes
octoberfest
flies and guys hang out
in the beer garden
a revival tent went up
so the sinning might go down
skunk cabbage
we lift our noses
in the air
coyote pups need feeding
lost cat posters near the parks
easter service
a large brim hat looms
in front of me
no more human sacrifice
let us put a stop to war
marathon
a long distance from start
to finish
in the end the beginning
promised all that was to be