April 2016

turbulent mist—
all that is to become
lost in becoming

a butterfly
not a leaf left
by the wind

moon charmed
the Kaipara harbours
God's presence

the moon
within a sliver
of shadow

rustic moon –
my hidden self leaves
the city

light relief from dawn to dusk

morning mass –
light presses down
as manna

fog-bound
light takes on
an overtone
of words

morning fog
I feel my way through
past, present or future

skylark song
gone now – a bird
unburdened

season of fog
and mould'ring fruitfulness . . .
what sound my song now?

autumn sea –
a Maui's dolphin skirts
the sixth extinction

in a rut
a haiku caterwauls
for its mate

cherry blossoms –
a cool cat reformulates
the familiar

a tomcat
trots out unseasonal references
at the witching hour

in silence
a new moon's
echolalia

moonless night –
spiders search out
for my heart

dew-fall night without the moon

angelus bell –
the flesh tone
of my limits

a feijoa's sublime nymphomania of words

mountain fog –
an aberrant will
forking paths

tonight's moon
and something new
under the sun

a battered butterfly stalks dead blooms

ancient wisdom –
helplessly age succumbs
to extinction

loneliness nestles into listening

star-struck night –
on earth the light shed
to banish them

burnt haiku
escape their failings
as they rise

in a mosquito's buzz
the strand of my thoughts
pierces hers

before leaf shed the plumage light retains

autumn wind
deepening the sound of
an empty bottle