20 March 2017

Haiku 2017/79

I forgot the moon
until I glanced skyward, but
the moon did not care

Derek Walcott, 1930 - 2017

Derek Walcott died last week at the age of 87. Here is one of his poems:

Sea Canes

Half my friends are dead.
I will make you new ones, said earth.
No, give me them back, as they were, instead,
with faults and all, I cried.

Tonight I can snatch their talk
from the faint surf's drone
through the canes, but I cannot walk

on the moonlit leaves of ocean
down that white road alone,
or float with the dreaming motion

of owls leaving earth's load.
O earth, the number of friends you keep
exceeds those left to be loved.

The sea canes by the cliff flash green and silver;
they were the seraph lances of my faith,
but out of what is lost grows something stronger

that has the rational radiance of stone,
enduring moonlight, further than despair,
strong as the wind, that through dividing canes
brings those we love before us, as they were,
with faults and all, not nobler, just there.

Derek Walcott

from Collected Poems 1948 - 1984

a week (or so) of apricot blossoms: 2


19 March 2017

a week (or so) of apricot blossoms: 1


Last Saturday I took some photographs of the apricot tree in bloom in my backyard. The blossoms are already all gone, replaced by a haze of soft green leaves. I will post the blossom photos daily until there aren't any more (so that's a week or so).

Haiku 2017/78

smiling like a friend
from a spot we both know well:
the face of evil

18 March 2017

17 March 2017

Haiku 2017/76

waiting for the sun
to sink so that I can see
light from subtler stars

Friday photo 2017/11


from the San Leandro BART station, February 2017

(Truth Is Beauty, sculpture by Marco Cochrane)

16 March 2017

15 March 2017

14 March 2017

13 March 2017

Haiku 2017/72

down this crowded street
falling night will clear a path
for the lonely moon

12 March 2017

Haiku 2017/71

that distant birdcall
needs landscapes of lonely pines,
not this cityscape

11 March 2017

10 March 2017

Haiku 2017/69

while I was sleeping
the apricot trees blossomed
into spring's light snow

Friday photo 2017/10


oh what a beautiful day: sidewalk outside of the Aurora Theater, Berkeley California, February 2017

09 March 2017

Haiku 2017/68

see the moon shining
silver through the new spring leaves –
it's just so classic

08 March 2017

Haiku 2017/67

on a day like this –
so crisp, so cool, so refreshed –
we should be other

07 March 2017

06 March 2017

05 March 2017

Haiku 2017/64

stripped by the strong winds
the green spring growth lay fallen
with last year's dead leaves

04 March 2017

03 March 2017

02 March 2017

01 March 2017