Reading Basho, I Notice the Cicadas

The tympanal clicks in the hottest hours

counting out a song in another language.

One of mating, and not of love,

that I know well and repeat myself

in the five seven of this poem.

 


Two Haiku by Basho

Nothing in the cry
of cicadas suggests they
are about to die

Lonely silence,
a single cicada’s cry
sinking into stone

 

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Shakespeare at Dusk

Hopper

Shakespeare at Dusk by Edward Hopper

 

Standing motionless, daylight turns twilight, he watches

her walk into the edge of darkness.

She spoke to him of a love

made from the fume of her sighs.

He, wordless, but for those already spoken.

Moments

There are 1440 minutes in a day.

The nurse tells me my heart beats

80 times per minute – 115,200 a day.

So many moments, exacting products of distance

multiplied by the charge of absent love.

* Though a “moment” is an inexact measure of time, in physics, it is something that can be calculated using a formula.           {\displaystyle \mu _{n}=r^{n}\,Q,}