June Haiku

Hallway swimming pool games echo upstairs. Marco Polo without water. Son coughing for ten straight days. This morning’s silence never so welcomed. Deep breath. Climb into the car. Thus begins our son’s competitive sports.   RJ Lavallee is the author of IMHO (In My Humble Opinion): a guide to the benefits and dangers of today’s…

Lost Voice

A garden grows in the Yerba Buena Center
for the Arts where concrete, water, and grass
rise and fall in an airy maze. On a ramp
from one terrace to another a woman argues

beat down barn

beat down barn
hollow window moon frame
ridge pole sway back
tar paper flakes free
gravity pull notwithstanding
a slow lean lends respite………..

what you need

birches break at the icy bend
stripes just scars that slowly heal
you've earned your share
paper bark is stained by inklings
need finds you like fungus finds rot
lean a little toward the sun
melt the unclear coat
maybe find a nice laurel
her shade is what you need

lost on me

 …I once held a shell to my ear
an ocean echo funneled to my drum
quartz tumblers were chased by foam
my grip on sand shifted insecure
I watched with envy the water retreat
though 20 grit skin coat is lost on me

My Song…

first the cricket, night his stage
then the birds, sunlight sparks their songs
we slowly stir from our blanketed nest
soon to mingle among the many, each at our task
slowly the path before me unwinds
as do the coils of a long day
now I turn my eyes to you
my sunrise, my song………