New Year’s morning–
old haiku linked together
with cobwebs
Category: Issue 08
bare maple branches
grandpa’s fingers curl
around his cane
cattle fade
into the sky
blizzard wind
rough sea —
the seagull in a
rain puddle
white out…
a car horn blares
the yellow rose of texas
toll road
the hitchhiker’s thumb
knee high
standing near my wife
watching the snowflakes melt
in a stranger’s hair
dim light in the bus…
a tiny finger counts
the stars
our toes
finding each other
over the hot-water bottle
Martin Luther King Day…
a watermain breaks
on his boulevard
cold moon . . .
a rising wave splashes
the taste of salt
filling the bird feeder–
snow finds the hole
in my mitten
wedding day
the bride tries to avoid
the widow’s hug
clapping his hands
to turn on the TV …
winter melancholy
winter morning
walking with the cat
around my ankles
star-gazing
between snowflakes
the big dipper
50th reunion
everyone much older
than me
another gray morning
all the potholes
full of rain
winter sunset…
this sudden craving
for a hand-picked peach
icy pond
the weight of a willow’s
shadow
nor’easter
my cat stalks
the tumbling ice
wet snow
a crow follows
the road
window steam
the slow evolution
of soup
frozen
in silence
the depth of the old pond
London Underground
five stops after he speaks
she answers
the end of winter
the gravedigger whistles
louder and louder
recent puddle –
the white of clouds
in the way
floating purple–
my daydreams follow
the water hyacinth
one more step to the top
the falling snowflakes
a little louder
a sudden cold snap
the ducks stand together
on the lake
the old setter snores
as I write out the check
for a puppy
a dinner bell
rings & rings…
evening snow
bed time…
she asks if her rag doll
can stay up late
rising and falling
the scent of tortillas
from shore
snow blowing sideways crows in flight
bedtime story
the child never
stops talking
Valentine’s Day–
she reminds me
to fasten my seatbelt
my heart
after the finish
still running
late fall
choosing between
two rotten apples
Toshogu shrine pines
I try to stay as still-
mist and dew
closed window
a yellow gecko
clings to the sky
blizzard —
the hero on the pedestal
thicker and thicker
falling star
the child stares
at my finger
lake crossing
dusk lingers in the ice
below freezing
only the stars
remain outside
midday moon against the fence yellow grass
nuclear spring
the ancient lighthouse points
to the shattered moon
all are in a hurry –
in the beggar’s hand
only the rain
false spring…
the candidates bow
in unison
day moon
the night stays in the lake
desert snowfall-
the saguaro’s
white shoulders
out of the thinning fog and back again pelicans at Big Sur
low-flying cloud…
the retired airman clips
his topiary swan
spring breeze —
three little girls run
into the sky
all this green forgiving the rain
stone wall –
the spring wind fills
all the cracks
lightning so bright
streetlights
stutter
tiny words
on my monitor
a white moth
spring cleaning
the last mound of snow trickles
down the driveway
snow melt…
her lost mitten
covering the crocus
spring peepers
the other car in the lot
has its top down
spring dusk
the wind rises
in the trees
into the night a cuckoo returns the call
after-season sales —
I read fire safety tips
in a lingerie shop
spring thaw…
collecting the hat
I loaned to Frosty
pear trees in bloom
from the old archtop
music from my youth
spring sunset
garden lights flicker
one by one
pale moon . . .
not half the man
I used to be
full moon
floating face up
in the bird bath
first sun in days
bees bees bees
in the rosemary
night traffic
the smell of seaweed wafts
above the pier
amber light
wrapped flowers
on the verge
prairie sunset
the glow of the cattleman’s
branding iron
model home —
in the forsythia bush
a single blossom
the pause
in a dragonfly’s glide—
noon shadows
rainy day
the hummingbird still watches
its plastic flower
ripples split the pickerel weed–
an empty canoe
drifts to shore
salt marsh
sunlight flecks the egret
childless couple
a birthday cake
for the dog
stolen kisses
barn swallows twitter
in the eaves
chilly wind
red rose petals
on her stone
real estate sales pitch —
a tangle of butterflies
in the horse pasture
my son and i
counting fireflies
counting stars