Poem: The Impatience of Old Men

The impatience of old men
springs not from too many days
rather from too few

Too few days remain
to watch today’s plantings bear
proud fruit on high limbs

So they cry “Ripen!”
to the seeds of former years
heady hopes of youth

“Rise! Flower! Ripen!
I would eat before I die,
let the sweet juices

run into my beard
I have laboured long enough
Time now to savour.”

But old ways die hard
Wizened hands sow once again
blessings for the future

Modern Hero

Have you heard of Fib poems? No, nothing to do with fibbing, it's the Fibonacci sequence that is at play here, with the number of syllables in each line corresponding to the sequence. Needless to say, there are never very many lines...

Here's one of mine for your entertainment.

Modern Hero

Haiku: Morning leaves

Guy Gavriel Kay tweeted a picture he had taken of shadows on his wall, which reminded me of a haiku I had written on the same subject. So I combined them and tweeted it back to him.

Poem: Stink Bugs

I find the stink bugs
Their desiccated corpses
Supine on my windowsills
Tiny legs folded on their breasts
In futile prayer to the goddess of spring
Who came too late