a vase of white lilies
eight minutes and 20 seconds
away from the sun
Month: October 2018
2164
curtains in ribbons
lets in more sunlight
cat reassures me
2163
wind-farm propellers
spinning in the storm— forty
acres flying south
2162
waiting for the gas
she argues with her surgeon
about her copay
2161
please winter over
I’ll be first to hear you sing
when spring begins
2160
clutching her tickets
my aunt knows she is the next
billionairess
2159
no more serenades
buskers in bushes pack up
twee little fiddles
2158
the morning after
I’m not a new billionaire
cat says no big deal
2157r
best show for two bucks
buy a mega chance— crumple
and toss it to cats
2156
grandson is a storm
bellowing exuberance
cats have disappeared
2155
death has its upside
no worries of outliving
your retirement
2154
in a splash
frog becomes water
water becomes frog
-from Failed Haiku, October 2018,
edited by Michael Rehling
2153
all spring you sing
in my backyard— and I don’t
even know your name
-from Wales Haiku Journal, Summer of 2018,
edited by Paul Chambers
2152r
a jar of old keys
what houses, what rooms, whose heart
did they once unlock
-from Pure Haiku, edited by Freya Pickard,
10/22/18
2151
evergreen forest
curtains of morning fog rise
to let in the light
-from Pure Haiku, edited by Freya Pickard
2150
the babysitter
her face glowing blue
her apple phone
2149
an afternoon walk
my shadow blends
shadows of trees
2148
unzip the moment
sort out the karmic small change
throw away grudges
2147
cat confidential
to be a cat whisperer
just whisper “tuna”
2146
till seventy one
I’m only in my sixties
clinging to the tree
