Will Reger

Mass Transit Madonna

She looks around wondering if
The driver remembers her stop.
She does not speak to me
But bends her white neck

Crow Games

How high fly the crows? 
Thirty stories up I’ve seen them 
Swimming in currents of air, 
As confident as children in puddles. 

Haiku for the Cat

The fever is on me now.  
Since morning I can do nothing  
but crack pistachios between  
my thumbs and listen  
to the woody tinkle of their shells  
hitting the floor.  
I mutter haiku at the cat 
who bats them as they fall. 

Blood Cries

Sometimes you speak 
and I hear 
the words between us, 

Oblation

Death does not 
disturb me, nor fear 
of death. 

How to Be Alone with a Flute

Do not think of your suffering. 

Release it 
through your breath 
into the flute.