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Haiku

Quietly filling deep cups of the red blossoms. The morning sunrise. The rock bowl is full. Filled by the rain for the birds and for my quiet mind. Dried stalks of rhubarb turn brittle in the summer. Born again next year. The sparrows come back to say thank you for their home I lovingly made. My red dogs eyes gleam. Before eating, her eyes ask is it OK Dad? HAIKU; MEMORIES AND OBSERVATIONS and EXERCISES Archery The strong bowstring sings. My arrow will find its home I turn to sip tea. First Love How reluctantly the shy, young man moves forward toward the full, red lips. First In the maiden’s bed He found his heaven and hell. Such was his first love. Alone Small favor to ask. Please spread my ashes on the sea. No wife, no roommate. Who is Buddah She poured my green tea Until the cup ran over. Now, I know Buddah. Memory Cousin Roni was loud. Married a Samoan man. They both ate roast pig. Memory My old friend, Bucky. Carried a gun in his boot. Afraid of himself. Old Friend Alvin slapped his first wife and then he married a man. I don’t know him now. Exercise I Diagonally he crosses the wide, busy street, to catch up with love. Exercise II Vociferously, she announces her mistrust. Not Republican. Exercise III She knew the problem. Incompatibility. He had to learn it. All his writing was autobiographical. He was egocentric. SEASONS The autumn raging I am blinded by red leaves. Too many to count. Surf crashes fiercely. Shadows lessen, skies turn gray. Winter storm moves near us. This Spring, my house burned. I now have a better view of the blue mountains. Fresh ink on blue lines the words come like hungry bees to form my Haiku. Synch Summer. I feel strong. Equal to birds in the tree, and pebbles near feet.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2007




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