Everyday Sounds

There are noises here abounding
Though they exist barely noticed,
A closing of a drawer, a toilet

Somewhere flushes,
Humming from electric fans
Sends taut air spinning through

Summer, your tartan skirt
And tattooed hand snapping
My wishbones, like keys

To my uncontrolled blushes.
Tap water running,
Meditations overflowing.

A murmuration of sunbathers,
Suncream bottle lids opening,
Clasps on shoulders undone.

Garden parties swallowed.
Undeciphered patterns and vacations,
Wheatfields over the fence

With seventeen crop circles.
All these vibrations from life evolving,
All these times I’ve been revolving.

Yet there is no sound disguising
These memories are no longer
Moments, but instead a silence.

First Finches

First finches having landed,
Found a suitable place to nest
In rooftiles’ gapped teeth.

Lichen gums, worn enamel,
A tap that can’t be turned off,
I live in a land of crow’s feet

And magpies as relentless as
Camels traversing Saharan
Landscapes. I remember beads,

Kaftans, strange dreams of
Otherworldly animals
Drinking from a sandy stream.

These finches did not know
The motives of crows; now
All I hear is a constant alarm

Like a monotone screech,
A warning, a rallying call to live,
Though their breasts may be

As small as young dwarf
Coconuts before they fall
On undiscovered islands.

Haiku #319

319.

Wanting his desire,
Devil tries to knock my ear.
Emptiness is nought.