2 Poems by Richard Luftig

Oku

In Japanese, a farthest, dead-end place


These unlucky pines

go against their fate.

Each pine the only



pine, each moment

the only one

in this life. I look



and see no-thing,

turn my face

to the hawk



wind, coldest

of winter.

Today is all



I am, perhaps

the last poem

I ever might be.



Poppies

Plant two on your hill

And in fall songbirds will feast

On the seeds. Next spring



You will have one-hundred

Times the flowers spreading

Among the pinyon oak.


Bionote

I am a former professor of educational psychology and special education at Miami University in Ohio now residing in California. My poems and stories have appeared in numerous literary journals in the United States and internationally in, Canada, Australia, Europe, and Asia. Two of my poems recently appeared in Ten Years of Dos Madres Press.