dry leaves
snap crackle pop
fall underfoot
Month: September 2019
2562
doors swing open
curtains dance nervously
autumn winds visit
2561
when the tv dies
choirs of crickets
heard at long last
2560
cold weather sailors
in my back, neck, and shoulders
practicing their knots
2559
flows around, within;
heart’s blood of waking buddhas
who all are laughing
having dreamt we’re cups of water
immersed in wondrous oceans
2558
toddler granddaughter
has flypaper fingers.
where’s my keys
2557
*
2556
carved on the tree
beneath the ivy
arrows and hearts
Under the Basho
Accepted for Under the Basho 2019,
Modern Haiku Division editor Kala Ramesh,
editor-in-chief Don Baird
2555
in the trees
woven of twigs and leaves
a basket of moon
2554
splash!
frog becomes water
water becomes frog
-from Failed Haiku, October 2018,
edited by Michael Rehling
2553r
a stretching band
of illuminated faces
blares thru the station
2552
pigeons flock around
my toddler granddaughter
trilling their language
2551
a cracked coffee mug
drying by the kitchen sink
the morning she left
2550
the neighbor critiques
my weekly recyclings
scolds me in German
2549
no, not unemployed
the baby hurls toys at me
I toss them back
2548
spendthrift grasshopper
rescued from starvation
no ant is homeless
2547
he speaks slower now
pauses between words
fish slip thru the net
2546
pumpkins burn
the sea fog away
hills glowing
2545
sky glows orange
sharp, sudden pain in my neck
president’s in town
