ContentsPutah and Cache: Going Further

Previous chapter Previous piece More like this

Next piece

Tule Haiku

For Gary Snyder, who suggested it.

Biking across town
Tule fog biting my ears
Should have worn a hat
Dan Leroy

Fog is the Valley's koan
Form in emptiness
We practice clear mind not sky
Rob Thayer

am i lost, or just
loosing my perspective here
in this valley swale?
Michael Marchetti

Tule fog slows me
Down, I am not in control
Blessings, tule fog
Jean Jackman

Droplets on cat fur,
fog as soft and wet, but cold all
the way in to bone.
Amy J. Boyer

tree after tree row
fades back into tule drape
closeness shows distance
Laurie Glover

 

Angry strangers gripe,
What the heck is a tule?
Fog snagged on thousands . . .
Maria Melendez

Rustle. Rustle. Shhhh . . .
Something stirring in the fields.
Tule fog secrets.
Jackie Rogers

 

"Tule fog" is a cool phrase. It makes me want to strip, coat myself in lard and war paint, and dance around a fire until my enemies surrender for reasons unknown to them.
Sean Lyons

Funny how haiku keeps involving cars . . . tule fog & cars, natural antagonists, & therefore mutual attractors.
Amy J. Boyer

 

fog thinning, clean light
into, on and over the car
tumbleweed tumble
Kelly Lyons

night tule on elmwood, 1969:
headlights hit the wall—watch out!
follow the curb, door open
Sarah Motley

 
 
the north winds blow through
the trees are left stark naked
ready for winter
Lisa Erskine

Cyberhighway storm
Causing pileups and crashes
Blizzard of haikus
Frances Ransley

 

 

seamless flat and gray
dreams for the apoplectic
brain falling softly
Charles Efferson

 

What little cat feet?
Carl Sandburg never saw this
Lioness linger.
Linda Book

Coming in on cat's feet?
No, the fog rises up and strikes,
an army of cold snakes
Peter Moyle

sweep of valley wind
the gusts of tule blue sky
transparent fog spins
Jamie Chomas

homeless, stumbling
in thick tule fog
of the mind
Marilyn Moyle

high clouds or low ones
itís all the same grey seeping
into my pea coat
Jake Mann

Let strangers complain
Of our misty mystery:
Tule fog defines us!
Anonymous

full moon night—bright seed
drops wide rings of light into
the clouds of our dreams
Sarah Motley

clear sky to horizon
acorns crack under bike tires
absent tule fog, missing mystery
Christy Brigham

Previous chapter
Willow Slough and Creeks' Ends
Previous piece
Birds of Putah-Cache
More like this
Poems