Twaiku

http://twitter.com/annklefstad

Time's thick muscle scrubs away anything like words til the grain shows through
9:20 PM Sep 15th

The rain in the night, a million drops of entropy, erased all my dreams.
9:30 AM Jul 21st

A fog so cold it licks the red out of your blood. Bluegreen moving world.
8:13 PM Jun 28th

Far out on the dark bluegreen, at evening a land breeze, dirt and lilac
8:24 AM Jun 4

Tall ryegrass shakes itself. What? Down in the dirt, a bird quivers.
10:01 AM Jun 3

water falls on water; the big world flings itself around; water falls on water.
3:44 PM May 31

Four lombardy poplars have surrendered to the enemy, naked limbs held high.
7:28 AM May 29

hunting through electron clouds for a singular face, a scent, a phrase
10:11 PM May 26

children wait hungry-eyed for their turn on the swings; their teacher doles out motion
9:02 PM May 23

fighting against sleep, you throw me a dark gaze, a thousand years ago
9:43 AM May 20

My joints ache, sympathy for the old maple twisting in this north wind.
3:52 PM May 19

open night window, cherry tree presses; its leaves feel the screen
3:50 PM May 19

the worn house creaks differently for every foot; that wooden sigh is his
9:22 AM May 18

long grasses bending, black jeans, red hair, eating an apple, a side glance. She.
7:17 PM May 12

That clattering hail has melted the lawn's dogshit; wait and the sky provides.
8:38 AM May 7

little merganser jams his crest down, helicopters hard into a tough west wind
7:32 AM May 3

Red flag, yellow flowers, and Lucy's eyes, who saw these on May Day, far away.
3:05 PM May 1

grey scrim, hissing tires, a cat hunched in the yard, his eyes hot green
7:52 AM Apr 30

Sun through the golden rum in a glass on the windowsill; blue water beyond.
7:54 AM Apr 29

A huge machine arrived by accident; our lives must change for it.
11:44 PM Apr 27

The night's confused news: a dark-eyed girl long dead, the old house, a fish?
7:02 AM Apr 21

Never write about coffee. Better nothing than the table, the cup.
8:30 AM Apr 19

black ballpoint pen, the back of a grocery list--tag alder, the lake.
9:32 AM Apr 18

a piece of the air shivers--horse's hide, a fly--and smooths itself out
7:27 AM Apr 17

red, shrivelling, a handful of tulips melts into yellow twists--picked too soon
1:04 AM Apr 16

postmodern fiction: Standing on the lip of the Grand Canyon, back turned to it, admiring the other view.
9:12 AM Apr 13

It's been a week without sunsets, night falling like a drunk over a doorstep.
8:21 PM Apr 5

beautiful child singing to herself as she drifts around the kitchen with ears plugged
9:31 PM Apr 3

black dog, as always, wedged behind me on the chair. Just doing her job.
7:59 AM Apr 2