Otoliths 62 (Asemic writing)

 

COVID continues:

we skip Halloween…

I peek 

at the ghosts

of our past 

Take 5ive Issue 3

a billionaire pays

for a voyage to space…

we gaze 

at a night

without stars 

cattails Fall 2021

 

heavy snow...

I sink deeper

into my chair 

Modern Haiku 52.1

struggling to teach him

the routes 

of explorers

I draw him a map

back to school 

cattails Spring 2021

a red patch

on the blackbird’s wing…

autumn dusk 

Presence 69

Fifty at Fifty: My Haiku

Please see the PDF below for my chapbook Fifty at Fifty: My Haiku.  It is a collection of my best haiku as of my fiftieth birthday last summer. 

Wobble

In the front pew I sit awaiting my parents. Before me is a huge old cross to which a wooden Jesus is nailed. I examine His outstretched arms, the way His head hangs down. My atheist uncle says death on a cross comes through asphyxiation. There’s no way, he argues, that Jesus called “Why hast Thou forsaken me?” while choking to His death.

The Pastor’s hand on my shoulder startles me. He meets my eye, then looks up to that same cross. “What’s amazing,” he says while pointing with his Bible, “is that everything inside this Book is true.”

My parents arrive as the service begins. As much as I try to pay attention, I get distracted when the Pastor clears his throat.

afternoon sun …

my shadow and I

the same length 

Haiku Canada Review Feb 2020

Contemporary Haibun 16

a slow afternoon

my mind starts

to drift

with the traffic

passing outside

The Bamboo Hut, Fall 2019

replacing the sound

of passing traffic

a small

convention

of birds

Presence 67

a cool breeze

pushes its way

through my window—

the chill

of self-isolation

Frameless Sky 12

almost noon,

my son’s still asleep—

I open

the blinds

on his dreams

Under the Basho, 2020

the company proposes

a fresh round

of layoffs—

I make myself small

at my desk

The Bamboo Hut, No. 3, 2020

along with

his backpack

after the loss

I carry my son’s

disappointment

The Bamboo Hut No. 3, 2020

what can I offer

this Coke bottle

world?

the hollowed out

song of a breeze

Sonic Boom 18

I grow a small beard

for my fiftieth

birthday—

the moon lights

a grey, stubbled field 

Presence 68

winter produce...

the grocer imports

fruit flies

Modern Haiku 51.3

mountain trail...

a bear crosses

my mind

tinywords 17.2

afternoon nap...

a lawnmower

cuts it short

The Heron’s Nest, December 2020

a slow day at work,

I peek out the window

watch

as the snow

fills my thoughts

Presence 66

day moon ...

a red-winged blackbird

circles back 

The Heron’s Nest Sept 2020

impatient,
I await her 
response to my text …
a fly hovers over 
the fruit bowl 

Ribbons, Winter 2020

river path ...
a growing crowd

of loners 

Presence 67

he asks me 

when the pandemic

will end —

I study the slope

of his shoulders 

Frameless Sky 12

measured in light years,

the night sky

again tomorrow 

is/let March 2020

a gust of wind

billows the curtains —

I inhale 

a full breath 

of spring 

hedgerow 131

Rubber-Ball Days: A Chapbook of Lockdown Tanka

 

adrift at sea

the god we pray to

waves 

weird laburnum May 2019

a rainbow

in the oil slick

blackened trout 

Presence 65

her dying

wish to travel

winter breeze 

Presence 65