it

it takes a stiff wind

it takes a stiff wind 
to heat a cold blast furnace 
to incandescence

just set one day's work 
in front of the last day's work 
and it will come out

i can't hear silence 
but i can listen to it 
in pregnant darkness

it is a folly 
to confuse the poetry 
with the poor poet

civilization
depends on self deception
and it always has

it is my privilege 
to manifest the person
i was meant to be

when the sun rises
it ceases to be just one
of a billion stars

when wealth departed
it carried off nothing but
its own inertia

any point of view
can captivate my interest
if i offer it

every good haiku
carries within it the seed
of a thousand more