The First

stoness

 

Someone has to be the first.

Someone has to take the first bite

Of the cherry

Be the first cab off the rank.

Someone has to be the early bird

For worms to be taken.

Some has to drop the rock in the pool

To set the ripples going.

Someone has to throw the first stone

For the stoning to begin.

Not a Black Cat

rooster

 

It was not a black cat

But a red rooster

That crossed my path this morning.

I waited

As it waddled past the car

Oblivious to the honour

I had accorded it.

 

Why the rooster crossed the road

I do not know

Though it waddled

With intent.

It had the whole day

In front of it

Provided it did not cross

Too many roads.

Zen Sandwich

falcon

 

 

I am eating my zen sandwich by the side

            of a blue lake . I hear the sound of

                        two wings flapping .

 

A fawn falcon plunges down the side

            of the volcanic cone , its claws extended

like the landing gear of a plane .

 

As it skims across the surface — a sail-winged

            skater —- the talons lacerate the taut

                    skin of that lake . It bleeds blue .