Tag Archives: haiku

August ‘23 Haiku

Only a partial effort for August in the haiku department.

8/1
Near the super moon.
But it’s Christy’s light making
the east wall light up.

8/2
Once read that lies were
the devil’s greatest tool. I
wasn’t sure. Am now.

8/3
Motorcade obscene.
No big crowds. Just reporters.
Sad day? Not at all.

8/4
Dog gacking lately.
In my dream, he spits up one
quilting pin, then two.

8/5
A single yellow
leaf winking on the road speaks
to coming season.

8/6
Rain clip clops through trees,
back pain unspooling at hill’s
crest. What’s for breakfast?

8/7
Who do you choose to
be: a pond dimpled by rain
or the mighty oak?

8/9
We missed the exit.
But the turnpike was quicker.
Now collapse on couch.

8/10
Soaked sphagnum moss like
they said to for orchids but
for too long. It stinks!

August 11
Between the wars. She would have
been ninety today.

Haiku July ‘23

7/1
Nothing like a nice
baked potato with butter,
sour cream, and salt

7/2
Hello, little toad!
First spotted this century.
Oh, the things we’ve lost!

7/3
First rain, then smoke-sky.
Jays cry. A lawnmower runs.
It feels like April.

7/4
Walked the Lost Pond trails.
Lush canopy. Cool fungi.
Burgers? Kin? Flag? No.

7/5
Out-of service train
Bell-clanging, wheels ka-thunking.
Slow, slow, then fast. Whoosh!

7/6
Dismantling it
isn’t gifting others. It’s
self-liberation.

7/7
Summer air clamps close.
Coleus curls in the heat.
Ice cream for dessert.

7/8
Who knew rhino’s top
lip comes to a point? Or that
warthogs kneel to eat?

7/9
Orchid-like flowers
fall, rust, stick to the bottom
of shoes. Catalpa.

7/10
Words I like a lot:
velocity, catapult,
serendipity.

7/11. Three today!

Tear downs signal wealth.
This one released a stink that
lingers still, weeks on.

Moss adorned stone walls,
dressed as royally as a
queen in purple silk

Often prickly I
sometimes push people away.
But really, so what?

7/12
Rains rage in Vermont.
Canada’s woods are burning.
In the fridge, there’s cake.

7/14
CO2’s not smog.
There’s no scrubbing it away.
Heat is here to stay.

Robin alights. Branch
waggles. Berry grabbed, eaten.
Robin vanishes.

7/15
They pecked at the lawn,
crept among the ferns, two grown
turkeys and four chicks.

7/16
Congo elephants
are smaller, more quiet than
the Savannah type.

7/17
Slow, sore down the stairs.
But the coffee pot is full!
Evidence of care.

7/18
Granite quarry full
of green water. Gulls bobbing.
Two cormorants. Us.

7/19
Midnight: waves crash and
shur near hotel’s foundation.
Mother’s lullaby.

7/20
Hajib black. Sleeves black.
Legs covered. She sits low and
lets the waves drench her.

7/21
The slavery spin:
beneficial for some. Next
up: women like rape.

7/22
My cousin’s birthday
The first without his father.
Mine gone forty years.

7/23
Tablesaw whine all
day. Hammer rat a tat tat.
Vacation’s over.

7/24
Forty mile march
to Tel Aviv. First hundreds.
Then twenty thousand.

7/25
The wind comes. Then rain.
The dog and I sit, listen.
Part cuddle, part prayer.

7/26
Single web strand holds
light. Every swag and sway makes
photons slide. Magic.

7/27
Breathless coverage.
“Reading the tea leaves” is just
guessing, but I watch.

7/28
Humidity forces
an abbreviated walk.
But coneflowers thrive!

You know it’s hot when
shade with poison ivy is
better than no shade.

7/30
Prize: rusty washer,
a perfect blue jay feather.
No. It was the breeze!

7/31
The spending! Mac D’s,
Chick-fil-a, Wendy’s. We’ve talked.
Make a sandwich! Jeez.

The Loop and Haiku

I “got” three haiku on my walk with Finn this morning. Because it isn’t raining or blisteringly hot, we could make the full loop. More time to hear my thoughts.

Rather than save these for month’s end, I’ll share today. And BTW, I had the wrong link for Robert Hubbell yesterday. Fixed it.

Moss adorned stone walls,
dressed as royally as a
queen in purple silk.

Often prickly, I
sometimes push people away.
But really, so what?

Tear-downs signal wealth.
This one released a stink that
lingers still, weeks on.

To Ohio. This makes 975 PCs for me.

June 23 in Haiku

Only in LA?
Strappy silver platform shoes
as garden decor.

After fourteen days
of leaden skies, cloud cover,
gloom, the sun comes out.

6/3
The mushroom ragout’s
secret ingredient is
wedge of Toblerone.

6/4
The smallest bird swoops
in an arc, back and forth, then
rises, rises. Gone.

She begs with brown eyes,
an occasional paw swipe.
Sweet and persistent.

In the wee hours,
Lila hops up and joins me.
An honor I’m told.

6/9
Once nut hulls rained down
on my head. Another time
raven swooped so close.

(Billy: you better believe they do it on purpose).

6/10
A pleine air painter,
boyfriend posed in the shrubs. “May
I?” He nods. “Fauvist!”

6/11
Four Travel Haiku

The worst gate ever.
Ten seats. Four speakers. What? What?
Six minutes to board.

A nun. A family
wearing crocs. Yoga pants and
bare midriffs galore.

Curly hair. A snot
rag wadded up. Goopy snorts.
Please, God, not near me.

Seeing the tall thin
Black man exit first class when
I’d thought him homeless.

6/12
Grapefruit, orange, dill,
ginger, salmon, and snap peas.
A nice departure.

6/13
Scrap of Dan’s pj’s
Square of Mom’s wool challis scarf
Strip of indigo

6/14
The clematis vine
twines upward on the lattice.
One perfect flower.

6/15
I wished my zoom friends
could hear the growling thunder,
See the trees backlit.

6/16
Two hens, one tom, live.
The flicker dead in the road.
Men tamping asphalt.

6/17
I get mullion, toile,
and priapi, but bundt? Do
they never eat cake?

6/19 (two)
Sunday was a blur
I really like it like that.
No apology.

I knew the Haitian
boy, so newly here, would love
the plastic monkey!

6/20
The balloon arches
grace the front doors of the school.
The last day is near.

6/21
I wrote for hours
almost all of it about
one of my front teeth.

6/22
They run out of air
today. One wife’s forebears are
waiting in the wreck.

6/23
Launching off the bed
to bark at the front window.
Who is it this time?

6/24
The boys raise their hands
at the same time. “Revolt!”
they holler, and smile.

(This came to me as I woke before I’d heard the news about Prighozin).

6/25
I am happy. I
am victorious. I’m loved.
Why not say these things?

6/26
A stately linden
shades the cop at the detour
while he does nothing.

6/27
Finn walked in a heel.
A heel! To get under my
umbrella. Went back.

6/28
Along the wood pile,
I scoop catalpa blossoms.
Yellow jacket stings.

6/29
Everyone who came
later has emerged and left.
What is going on?

6/30
White supremacy.
Partisan hacks, too good a
term. Going backward.

A dog walk in pics and haiku

Roses in the street / still in their cellophane. A /tale of rejection?

June one delivered / a rainbow heart sticker. Three / days later: gone. Ouch!

Yesterday a fire. / Now at Moon Canyon, a / crew cuts dry grasses.

White sneaks, linen pants, / a summery white jacket. / Who even am I?

Wearing dreads and scrubs / he rolls the bins to the curb. / Not likely his trash.