Friday, September 30, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxxix

“what do you want
for your birthday?”
“a divorce”

“i know what it's like
to feel depressed”
“yes, you do, don't you?”

face to face
two mortals accept the fact
that they're donkeys

grace
another word
for a sense of humor

flat on my back
things are looking up
again

haiku retrospective ccxxxviii

lost love
the heart still beats
in my chest

1 January 2003


day after new year's
she dusts off
her geometry book

2 January 2003


busy day
there's always room
for another haiku

2 January 2003

Thursday, September 29, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxxvii

stocking feet
the wash of scrabble tiles
by the fire

30 December 2002


moonlit tears
washing out the sorrow
of the old year

31 December 2002


drug store sale
tie-dyed blow-outs
six for a dollar

31 December 2002

Monday, September 26, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxxvi

alone into the night coyote voices rise in song
a sudden gust of wind calls forth the sleeping spirits
she walks into her fears armed only with her courage

30 December 2002


This is a sijo, not a haiku. It's the only sijo I've ever written.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxxv

~~~

leafless tree
lichen
on the weathered white post

~~~

nature's palette
a selection of greens and yellows
on that tree

~~~

27 December 2002

Saturday, September 24, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxxiv

~~~

swarming flies
primary colors
on the clothesline

~~~

clay oven
the smell
of burning bread

~~~

october beetles
a few stalks of grain
stand still

~~~

fading light
a redtail hawk flies low
over the cotton field

~~~

crawdad pond
a thick cloud of dust
behind the pickup

~~~

church potluck
the toddler asks
for a fly swatter

~~~

farm country
the flies don't bother me
until I get them home

~~~

annual party
the children all
one size bigger

~~~

27 December 2002

Friday, September 23, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxxiii

october clouds
the gleam of suntan oil
on the old woman's legs

~~~

children shriek
the old locomotive
builds a head of steam

working up a head of steam
children jump on the platform

~~~

clear blue sky
a touch of green
in the red berry leaves

~~~

long wisps of cloud
my hair
half-dry

~~~

tangled bushes
red berry leaves
amongst the toyon

~~~

train bell
she clips the leash
to her dog's collar

~~~

happy birthday
why do we celebrate
the forward march of time?

27 December 2002

Thursday, September 22, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxxii

december storm
the kids plead
for one more video

winter holiday
dad makes another trip
to the hardware store

even drizzle
is it time to make fudge
yet?

27 December 2002

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxxi

winter storm
paper snowflakes flower
on the window

27 December 2002


spaceship earth
the bus driver hollers
"move on back!"

27 December 2002

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxx

It's been a dark and stormy week. The power has been off more than it's been on. We've spent several evenings sitting in the dark by the fire listening to the rain and wind outside.

At night, I try to think of things the kids can do by candle light.

lights out
watching the rain
through a paper snowflake


We dust off our musical instruments, sing, and play games. The kids play flashlight tag and stage tumbling shows in the bedroom.

candlelit viola
playing “good king wenceslas”
by touch


I play Scrabble with my older children. The wash of the tiles brings back memories of stormy nights spent with my grandmother.

Last night, a thunderstorm started while I slept. I dreamed that someone up the road was playing Scrabble. The tiles thundered through my dreams.

“Oh why can't they be quieter?” I fretted in my sleep.

I woke to a tremendous roar of thunder, my mind still tangled in the dream.

thunder clap
god's word earns
a triple letter bonus

20 December 2002

Monday, September 19, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxix

frosty morning
the teenager wears thermal boots
with her shorts

5 December 2002


family reunion
she drives through her hometown
without stopping

7 December 2002


november wind
the news of each friend's death
less unexpected

12 December 2002

Sunday, September 18, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxviii

funeral train
a parade
without music

11 November 2002


autumn night
i don't care why
he wants to do me

26 November 2002


thanksgiving morning
do you really want to fight
over this turkey?

thanksgiving stuffing
reaching for another piece
of pie

28 November 2002

Saturday, September 17, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxvii

veterans day
the children dye yarn
with koolaid

armistice day
a rainbow of wool drying
on the clothesline

feet to the fire
the old woman knits
new socks

turning the heel
those chilblained toes no longer need
any socks

winding yarn
do the poppies still bloom red
in flanders?

11 November 2002

Friday, September 16, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxvi

dawn
autumn forest
through a raindrop

(I keep trying different versions of this, but it always comes out just a little too figurative.)

november geese
a fine rain covers
the fallen leaves

7 November 2002

haiku retrospective ccxxv

halloween night
the small witch's eyes
wide

31 October 2002


trick-or-treat
cotton candy clouds
pink at dusk

31 October 2002


remodeling
shopping for a husband
to match her decor

10 November 2002

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxiv

raining cats and dogs
watch out;
you might step in a poodle

coming down pitchforks
jagged lightning
in the west

raining buckets
trying to turn the wipers
up past high

downpour
catching my breath
under the overhang

31 October 2002

Sunday, September 11, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxiii

manicured nails
picking at the scab
from a hangnail

18 October 2002


desire
the honey
inside her

20 October 2002


halloween sunshine
the frantic whir
of the sewing machine

31 October 2002

Saturday, September 10, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxii

desert canyon
acres of windmills
white against the sky

18 October 2002


green tea
peasant virtues
in a cup

18 October 2002


turning leaves
blue veins marble
the clouds

18 October 2002

Friday, September 9, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxxi

badlands
a 22 casing
by the dead skunk

30 September 2002


october heat
cobwebs thick
with dust

6 October 2002


splitting a banana
a spoonful of hot fudge
straight from the jar

18 October 2002

Thursday, September 8, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxx

sudden gust
the scraping of the rake
a little faster

28 September 2002


grandma's chocolate cake
shuffling cards for
another round of go fish

28 September 2002


afternoon tea
the small boy spoons sugar
into his mouth

30 September 2002

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxix

final brush stroke
it's the lopsided grin
that makes it perfect

5 September 2002


last light
a pinwheel spins
on the child's grave

7 September 2002


early riser
the spider curses
the dew

7 September 2002

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxviii

autumn sunrise
her shrunken lips mutter
"Damn! I'm still alive."

4 September 2002


conceptual art        i think

5 September 2002


the sun rose
oh! the fragrance
of this autumn morning

5 September 2002

Monday, September 5, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxvii

cold august evening
maple leaves falling
on the first amaryllis

29 August 2002

august work day
raking in the leaves
to the smell of toner

29 August 2002

darkening bruise
a continent in relief
on his hip

4 September 2002

Sunday, September 4, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxvi


eating all those mosquitoes
the colony of mother bats
in our chimney

besides the point
the tears on my youngest child's face
as he gets his rabies shot

fourth rabies shot
the hospital receptionist
greets us by name

summer of the bats
i open the window
to let out the fear

28 August 2002

Saturday, September 3, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxv

august night
another bat 
in the house 

4 August 2002 


steamer's lane 
a wavy line of foam 
on the beach 

4 August 2002 


august heat 
a grasshopper
on the bottom of the pool 

 4 August 2002

Friday, September 2, 2011

haiku retrospective ccxiv

heat lightning
his bare legs hook
around the sheet

hot flash
the curtains sway slowly
in the summer breeze

19 July 2002


lost in space
my foot reaches for the step
that isn't there

2 August 2002