A Fossil Haiku

 

Archaeopteryx

A dinosaur with feathers

Transition to flight

Haiku poetry about Archaeopteryx lithographica,
the famous dinosaur with wings and feathers.
Found in the Jurassic Solnhofen Limestone of southern Germany,
Archaeopteryx is a transitional fossil between dinosaurs and birds.
 Watercolor pencil drawing by Steven Wade Veatch.

Selfish Solitude

As I grow older, I reflect on the cost

of selfish actions and what I've lost.

Regret and wisdom entangle in thought—

lessons learned—though dearly bought.

By Steven Wade Veatch

Evening Reflections: Duck Lake

Late in the day the sun sighed.
The lake sparkled as if polished.
The ducks did not notice
a salmon-colored sky as it unfolded—
but a loon did.

As the sun fell from the sky
a fading twilight filled the horizon.
At family gatherings a campfire 
blazed and crackled, 
filling the air with popping 
embers and wisps of smoke.
Dancers arrive in the shadows,
people of the past, 
linking hands, they spin 
to the plaintive fire’s song.
And then they are gone.

Nothing is the same:
the empty swing, 
a broken lawn chair,
the vacant cottage. 

A restless loon flutters, 
its wings beat anxiously,
as it desperately tries to hold 
onto the last remnants 
of the fading day, 
unwilling to succumb 
to the encroaching night.

By Steven Wade Veatch

Between the Storms

There is one secret of the world:
Life is given to us empty,
and during the colors of the day
we fill it with good things 
even if good is hard to find—
because days of angry storms
don’t last, they are calmed 
by longer intervals of quiet
that tame the waves 
    of turbulence 
        along the shores 
            of peace.

A Message Through Time

By Steven Wade Veatch

Mammoths, sabertoothed cats, and cave bears
once ruled this place. When people first came,
they lived here in rock shelters, floored 
with packed dirt, below smoke-blackened ceilings.
On canyon walls—splashed with desert varnish—
they carved and pecked designs, symbols, 
people and animals: A message through time.

This site awakens my senses as my mind 
conjures vivid images of ancient people 
moving, swaying, dancing in the warm glow 
of a crackling campfire while casting shadows 
on the smooth canyon wall. 
They send a message through time.

I think about these ancient people 
who have faded into the dry desert air
and try to understand their
message through time.

One Thursday Afternoon

The Cripple Creek Mining District, Colorado, 1891

The bustling gold camp roared
as the sun began to rise 
and the clinking of picks 
striking rocks filled the air. 

The prospector, 
fueled by determination, 
placed his entire fortune on the line
as his days unfolded 
in an uncertain way.

Anticipation hung heavy, 
mingling with the scent 
of sweat and dust.
He bet it all 
for a chance 
at gold.

Tomorrow would tell the tale,
carrying with it the promise 
of either a hope fulfilled 
or a crushing disappointment
of this prospector’s dreams 
that floated in the air.

—By Steven Wade Veatch

A prospector at work. This AI image was created
by the author with the assistance of MS Designer.

A House Burned Down

Cripple Creek, Colorado

No one lives there. The house is a tomb 
with boarded up windows.
Its tar-paper skin tattered, its shingled roof—
tough as a donkey’s hoof—
has lasted through a tired century.
Inside is the scent of decay and abandonment.

It grew on a hilltop: A new square added, 
with each child born—placed 
like boxes, end-to-end—
in the gold mining camp.

One dry and breezy day a fire started. 
The sharp smell of smoke spread. 
The crackling sound of burning wood 
filled the air as raging orange flames
devoured the house.

Under a burned-black skeleton, 
a claw-foot bathtub sits in ash 
Springs of the davenport twist 
like a frozen tornado. An ornate headboard 
is on the ground, used in one era, 
destroyed in the next.

I stop to think, will my life end 
like this place? Just bits and pieces
in a pile of smoldering cinders?

By Steven Wade Veatch