January 7, 2011 | Winter Haikus 2010-11

Haikus are poems
Leapt off the moment’s spur
Neat, no season’s tint

Words – my darling sheep
Shall verse forms bring them back
Into their rightful fold

Not ones, or twos
But fifties, sixties flying around
What do they know?

Tree’s shadows onto snow
Soft mottled sky, with sunlit clouds
Dogs dance after sticks

Dawn: one cloud, smoke-like
Ten: Overcast
Twelve: blizzard all white
Six: clear sky – a butter [...]


May 20, 2010 | Haikus – 4

The sun on my eyelids
Next door the noise of splashing water
Your bath

No movement of the air
Is time passing?

On the window-glass
Rain drops slewed by the wind,
Between me and the park trees

Like sour milk on the boil
White clouds fill the sky


May 13, 2010 | Haikus - 3

In the great trees, the sun
reflects off the few leaves it strokes, it is gone.
I am thinking; thoughts

The sky’s three layers of cloud are all moving:
Beneath them, the trees, birdlike, twitter;
A soft wind

At the base of the tree,
Air moves three leaves: they gleam.
Six feet above, beside, below –
Nothing stirs. Suddenly, all glitters.


April 30, 2010 | Haikus – 2

Grey again. The rooks
no longer discuss
last year’s nest

April: two warm days:
forty four different kinds of green:
blackthorn white

a look at the last coffee in my cup,
squinting down,
a vorticist pattern

Yellow and green: the cement mixer’s
Grey-beige stuff poured into a container and lifted
high up by a crane.


Grey again. The rooks

no longer discuss

last year’s [...]


April 15, 2010 | Haikus - 1

A bare tree
An old nest of twigs and bark:
two rooks considering it.