October 2015

in the produce aisle
a young mom applauds
my bare feet
haiku wars
staccato moments
litter the floor
stretching
in my imagination
the husk in her voice
a heartbroken suit
fills in the full flush
of its youth
with wayward eyes
his won't stiffens
its resolve
silent as a gun
sparrows twitter from the brim
of a scarecrow's hat
between
voice and word
the sparks
fallen night—
Adam peels the apple
of his eye
just now
and now again
signs of life
5 7 5 . . .
an ocean of sound 
ebbs and flows 
and ebbs once more
earth-breaking seed— 
an after-scent
of extinction

days overcast beyond their reach

is that it?
an overdone show
of words
amid lushness
an idle idea 
of order
climate change— 
a tuatara through
its third eye
out of season
autumnal haiku
from abroad
te po
here I breathe
your last
wing-flapping
over primal seas
heaven hound
nothing
in a process of 
osmosis
cumuli—
my spring into
non-being
in spring rain
scarlet runner beans
crack the surface
spring kigo . . .
and I dotting 'i's
crossing 't's
deep-sea moon—
labyrinthine is
the kingdom
in spring rain
mockery of the drought
still to come
in spring rain
the distance once so near
now so far
in spring rain
the depth of reflection
that passes for me
remaking haiku
in creation's own image
and likeness
peek-a-boo!
between her fingers
a war reddens

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