HAIKU
after the rain
the moon
hanging out to dry
• • • • • •
All Hallows’ Eve…
trash thuds
in the funeral home dumpster
• • • • • •
All Souls’ Day…
a shattered pumpkin
grins
• • • • • •
an instant of sun
on her face at the stoplight…
her black eye
• • • • • •
autumn evening…
one firefly
moving away
• • • • • •
autumn evening…
the undertaker watches
an old man walk by
• • • • • •
autumn rain
louder on the roof…
knowing I’m dying
• • • • • •
Bang!
Orion’s belt
loosening
• • • • • •
block after block
of tenements…
a face in the window
• • • • • •
cat
in the sunrise sunlight
under the Olds
• • • • • •
children’s laughter…
the taste of Kool-Aid, the scent
of corn being shucked
• • • • • •
Christmas Eve…
snow falling
in the cedar stand
• • • • • •
crickets…
radio tower lights
blinking
• • • • • •
dead squirrel…
one leaf, spinning
as it falls
• • • • • •
dozer driver
pulling levers
under a parasol
• • • • • •
fly…
frogtongue
• • • • • •
four fans blowing…
the cat cleans herself
on the leather chair
• • • • • •
four fat girls
from the halfway house
holding hands, singing
• • • • • •
full moon…
the cat trotting
up the fire escape
• • • • • •
her praying hands
in the steam
from her coffee cup
• • • • • •
his windless
funeral morning…
damned bluebirds
• • • • • •
“How’s my driving?”
on the truck
in the ditch
• • • • • •
in steep silence
swifts, flutter-falling
into the chimney
• • • • • •
in the firelight
the warm blond wood
of my guitar
• • • • • •
jet
passing Jupiter; contrails
lit by the moon
• • • • • •
lake mist
polished stars…the sound of
pee on the grass
• • • • • •
light snow
bare branch
blue jay
• • • • • •
little girl
reaches for daddy’s hand…
tattooed nude
• • • • • •
mountain highway…
the moon sets,
rises, sets again
• • • • • •
mountain vista…
fog
in the creases
• • • • • •
my father’s silence…
remembering how he turned
bread crumbs into birds
• • • • • •
no sound at all
from the dog in his house…
steady rain
• • • • • •
powder-blue Pontiac…
lilacs strewn
all over the yard
• • • • • •
power humming
toward my computer
under a mockingbird’s feet
• • • • • •
pristine morning…
blue smoke from tailpipes
in still columns
• • • • • •
quarter moon settling
into the pinetops…
Ashland City 12
• • • • • •
quickly
past the gauze curtains
onetwo three birds
• • • • • •
rain falling
on the yellow Tercel’s
black bumper
• • • • • •
rainy morning…
my head floating
in my coffee cup
• • • • • •
rainy morning…
hearing the rust
in my neighbor’s wind chimes
• • • • • •
red satin…
my lips touch the hollows
of her shoulder blades
• • • • • •
a mockingbird
turning bugs & berries
into songs
• • • • • •
rough-hewn post
slowly
the cow’s head turns
• • • • • •
she stares at the moon,
trying to make out
Neil Armstrong’s footprints
• • • • • •
smoke
in the distance…
a squirrel’s tail arches
• • • • • •
snow melting
on the welcome mat…
sagging galoshes
• • • • • •
someone’s cough
lingers…the church’s
silence
• • • • • •
standing with my book
in perfect stillness, waiting
for a bird to watch
• • • • • •
starlit night…
in the silent garage,
my dad’s telescope
• • • • • •
suddenly moths
into the headlights…
skunkscent
• • • • • •
summer evening…
the cat asleep
on the yoga mat
• • • • • •
summer heat…
a beetle
clambers through the straw
• • • • • •
sun on the porch…
the undertaker & his cat
yawning
• • • • • •
the kids swarm…
blade gleams summer night sidewalk
old Frank goes down
• • • • • •
3:27
:12 :13 :14 :15
:16 :17
• • • • • •
through 10x50s
impact craters
on the harvest moon
• • • • • •
tiny spider
rappelling
from the ceiling
• • • • • •
winding country road…
the moon shifts
shoulder to shoulder
• • • • • •
wipers slapping…
boxcar boxcar boxcar
boxcar boxcar
• • • • • •
woven
into the sparrow’s nest…
dental floss
• • • • • •
a mockingbird
turning bugs & berries
into songs
• • • • • •
This was among the first I
ever wrote. It isn’t really a
haiku, since it uses simile,
although I didn’t know that
at the time. Rolling Stone
published it anyway.
her wake swells, empty
& silent; leaving, she took
the moon like a kite
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