Hokusai Before the Painting

The paper is a door

and the river is a smear

of deep indigo ink.

He tore down the paper

panel door to make room

for the rooster

and caught it while

the thin fingers

of the maple waited

patiently, purple

ghost assurances.

The indigo of his river

almost black. All because

he caught the rooster

and dipped his five-

fingered claws into red.

All because he shooed

the rooster to the bottom

of the paper panel door.

If I could be so simple:

“Leaves in autumn

on the blue Tatsuta River.”

--Lynn Wagner, printed as a broad side by Lynn Avadenka for Center for Book Arts

Also online:

"Ninetry-eight Degrees" won first prize at The Spring Literary Festival. Read the poem and judges comments here.

"Note" Country Dog Review

"Urban Haiku, Neruda" Poemeleon

Woman Blowing Soap Bubbles, Valparaiso Poetry 
Review

Other Poems (poems from friends)