Poem of the Week #14
April 6, 2008

Five Haiku


Morning

The house is quiet.
Even the dog is too cold
to leave the warm couch.


Commute

Each morning, the same
five cows standing by a barn
nod as I drive by.


First

The way your breath caught
(the first time you saw me) made
my heart somersault.


Vertigo

Light plays on water.
The child’s sure grip steadies me
as we walk the beach.


Recital

A hush sweeps the crowd.
The child plays, solemn, straight-backed.
The mother exhales.


© Lisa Vihos



Poem of the Week #13
March 30, 2008

A Summary of Those Things Which Are to Be Believed

Aquamarine lakes at sunrise
Belly buttons at midnight
Cakes baked from scratch in Myanmar
Disciples afoot, doors ajar
Elephant dung
Fairies, seen and unseen
Gospel singers and songs sung
Hearts carved into tree trunks
Icarus and iridescence
Jasmine, the smell of
Kissing in public
Language and longing and love
Mariachi, macaroni, macadamia nuts
New notebooks
Olives and olive oil
Popsicles, eaten in sun or shade
Quiet afternoons
Rain on a tin roof
Square dance callers
Tongues and tight rope walkers
Umbilical cords, umbrellas, uvulas
Violins and vertebrae
Water, in all its dispensations
X, (because it marks the spot)
Yellow, everything that comes in it
Zephyr, a wind that carries you


© Lisa Vihos