Cuttings: June
Haiku, Senryu, Brief Poems. Quintains
Spring and Summer Season
1998 - 2025
By Mike Garofalo
Place, Setting, Location:
Vancouver,
Clark County,
Columbia River Valley,
Washington,
2017-2025
indoor plant
green and lush—
Miracle Grow show
Surprised—
dry wind
intensified
memories
of mom—
playing canasta
on the beach
blanket hot
Shaking leaves
bending branches—
scattered cones
fallen
faded
rhododendron blooms—
hot days in
June
Don't need a license
to be strange—
rearranging myself
Body like the valley.
Blood like the river.
Mind like the sunshine.
—ideas shaped by words
—similes like analogies
tip tap
raindrops
on my vest—
a morning walk in
June
Brooking's Cafe—
old men's morning
conclave
Netarts Bay—
clam village
under rocks
Boardman Shore—
seagulls gather
on the sand
bird
shit
drops on rocks—
lichens
thrive
Wonder:
buds in Spring
wedding ring
vivid dreams
bread and beans
summertime
swimmers
towel off—
children grin
in umbrella shade
moonbeams
make visible
shaking leaves
of willow trees—
June breeze
clam chowder
thick as mush—
new cook
liking this world
as it is
not easy, occasionally wise
changes yourself
by little lies
Bandon
in June:
cranberry
shops
stocked
The world has sadly been
Americanized—
leaving junk
piled high
polluting the earth and sky.
The Wreck Ahead Comes Into View
fallen
faded
rhododendron blooms—
hot days in
June
June is her name
June is a month
June is for weddings
June is when school's out
June is before July
June is ...
watering
parched plants
dutifully—
June sunshine
sucking energy
I've always been
just a little
out of hand
out of touch
with reality
watermelon juice
dripping from my mouth
down my shirt—
juicy June
fond memories
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Place, Setting, Location:
Red Bluff, Tehama County,
North Sacramento Valley,
California, 1998-2016
Cool night—
watering the orchard
pale moonlight
new moon—
my flashlight
cuts a path
Last day of Spring
ripe purple plums drop—
form is emptiness.
First day of Summer
ditch completely dry—
emptiness is form.
June snowflakes:
cottonwood fluff
floating on the breeze.
midnight moon—
three mares
traced by shadows
A nonce word, a cryptic term,
specified to a specific occasion
fixed for only one case:
D-Day, Overlord, OOD:
June 6, 1944, Normandy
Weeds turn yellow as
the days grow long;
move the sprinkler on the lawn.
covered
with ants—
dead lizard
disappearing .........
bit by bit
spotted dog
lusting to kill a lamb—
shot dead
broken pencil—
anyway,
I'm short on
words
Eastern sun—
between Cascades and clouds
glowing red hollyhocks.
cherries and berries
ripening fast—
her sweet lips are red
Loose mind
jumping out of its skin—
Rattlesnake!
nimble fingers picking
fistfuls of cherries—
spitting pits
Graduation Day
pat on my son's back—
cameras flash.
Coming, here, gone:
Flowers in the Sky.
In the blink of one false eye,
In the blink of One True Eye,
flowers in the empty sky;
Shimmering, scented ... gone,
Gone, gone, gone far beyond
Their seeds of arising.
But, staying, Here-Now,
A Great Marvel of Manifestation.
Bodhisvattas - for the bees.
Gardens for the eyes,
gardening for the hands—
a flashlight in the dark.
early morning
purple clouds—
flies on my pants
Swat! Swat!
more flies fall ...
her aim is true.
No flowers, no bees;
No bees, no flowers.
Blooming and buzzing,
Buzzing and blooming;
Married and still in Love.
Crazy Cloud Ikkyu—
skin on a skeleton
listening to the dead
Dirty hand, callused palm, black fingernails— Green Thumb.
Pointing at the moon, making a point— her lovely fingers.
Grasping at straws to prove his point— a weak grasp of rhetoric.
A well worn glove, the thumb ripped off— handicapped fingers.
Gloves of leather, snug fit— cutting firewood.
Head on hand— eyes down, whiskey breath.
This cat in my lap: purring, eyes closed, ears back— fur on my fingers.
Jackrabbits munching in my garden; shotgun in my hand— yes or no?
Hands filled with good work hold happiness.
My son's old friend, tall and tan,
a different person
now a man.
I dreamt I died.
Followed by ...
Green plums
bend their branches
bowing to Pomona.
Sharing the wind-streams—
cattails and
cottonwoods
casting
cottony seeds.
removing cattails
till the pond is clear—
six empty bird nests
Frogs leaping
far into the pond,
ahead of a snake.
late rain
softening dry ground—
drips off my nose
White sun
behind a black cloud—
moon flowers curl up
Walking the fence line, eyes downcast;
humming a rock tune, smiling at last.
Raccoon up the willow,
dog nearby—
both tensed:
eye to eye.
If you have a hoe, She will give you
another.
If you don't have a hoe, She will take it away.
Magpies hop and squawk to start our day,
begging for dog food in the feeder tray.
As night turns to day
mountains appear ...
I stretch and yawn.
Full opal moon
rises above Lassen's forest—
laughter around campfires.
The
smell of wet clay on a warm Spring day;
in a shaded orchard, sprinklers tick and
spray.
prop plane
roaring as it turns—
everyone
looks up
Last day of school
drags on and on—
cheering at the final bell.
Carefully
locking library doors—
treasures in a
safe.
Memories of a teacher
dead for decades—
refreshed in a dream.
Shaking-Hands
Hugs, smiles, kind words:
See you in August.
squirming,
uncomfortable with the truth—
liars listen
a crying
daughter
makes a midnight call—
love is awkward
Cutting down
a dry dead tree:
pull to cut, pull to cut, pull to cut .....
Laker Championships
won and lost
in the squeaking of seconds.
Long-legged whore—
shadowed by streetlights
Shiny boots
sitting still
in deep shade—
my dog licks my
sweaty arm
since daybreak
hoeing and mowing—
siesta time
After reaching for the needle
at the
bottom of the sea,
I looked up, one summer's eve,
to see old Chang San-Feng
open the garden gate,
and join me for Tai Chi.
We said not a word,
hands moving like clouds,
fingers grasping sparrow's tails,
faces smiling,
feeling the sun drop,
glimpsing a half moon
climbing the clear sky.
Time flowed without a
ripple of memories,
Space embraced a crane cooling its wings,
Being began to sing
softly in tune with the moon.
My dusty black dog barked,
sensing something on the warm wind;
speaking her mind,
ears up.
Master Chang was gone.
Leaving one shoe on a beanpole,
and one page of poems.
Mementos for mortals.
Two black butterflies
danced wing to wing
in love.
After the long wait ...
twisted wreckage,
glancing at death
Immersed in Itness—
at the brink
of Glacier Point!
North Valley Heat
attacked!
Spring died.
Bouncing on the tractor as the day moves to dusk;
Mulching up dry weeds, trailed by dust.
Huge white oleanders
hide tiny black flies ...
Yang solstice.
Crack!
kitchen faucet breaks.
Priorities change.
Vociferous killdeers
limp away—
eggs on gravel
Quang Duc poured the gasoline
Over his head till it soaked to his feet;
He sat down calmly on a Saigon street,
Straightened his robe, his purpose keen:
To Protest Injustice and the horrors of war.
Lighting the match - he Exploded in Flames.
One 1963 photograph 'Nam
was Burned in my Brain.
clouds over the Columbia
rising—
dikes holding
clouds flowing
slowly—
trees swaying
the gardener rests—
beads of sweat
soak her blouse
Some things are dark and ugly,
For all creatures great and small;
Some things are wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made a few for all.
[Based on an Anglican hymn]
Stoned silly
on strong sativa—
doors of deceptions
a little girl
eager to talk—
stutt tt tt er ing
If you understand,
things are
changing;
If you don't understand,
things are changing.
Months and Seasons |
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25 Steps and Beyond: Collected Works
At the Edges of the West, Volume 1
Highway 101 and Hwy 1: Pacific Coast
At the Edges of the West, Volume 2
Highway 99 and Interstate 5
Poetry Research by Mike Garofalo
Mike Garofalo lives in Vancouver,
Washington.
He worked for 50 years
in city and county
public
libraries,
and in elementary
schools. He
graduated with
degrees in
philosophy,
library science, and
education. He
has been
a web
publisher since 1998.
25 Steps and Beyond: Collected Works
Cuttings: June, Spring, Summer
First Distributed on the Internet WWW in September, 1999.
I really appreciate positive feedback,
reviews, kudos, and encouragement
about the value
of
my free webpages.
Send your comments to:
Text Press Email
This document was last edited, revised,
reformatted, added to, relinked,
changed, improved, or modified
by Mike Garofalo
on June 5, 2025.