Thursday, August 10, 2017


A Hundred Gourds

Friday, July 21, 2017


fire-red lilies
a radiating heat
at sunset

the swelling sound of crickets
pressing heat

a misty beach walk
following the footprints
of gulls

Living Haiku Anthology
HSA Anthology 2002

Sunday, July 9, 2017


publish in Cattails

Friday, June 23, 2017

Tanka Prose

Poor inchworm. Back and forth across the tabletop. Down a table leg.  Halfway, it turns and climbs up again. Crosses the top once more to another leg.

                                                    there was a time
                                                    when I had to choose
                                                    love or adventure
                                                           was it luck or wisdom
                                                           that my choice gave me both?

The little worm takes a leap with its invisible thread, nearly reaching the bottom. Continues on, finally reaching the ground, crawls away. I lose sight of it when it disappears in a crack.

                                                   bird calls and wind
                                                   the shuffling of leaves 
                                                   the shuffling of time
                                                           what I did and did not do
                                                            and where I’ll be tomorrow  

Haibun Today, Tanka Prose,
March 2017

Saturday, June 10, 2017


setting out plants
I take a chance this year
with something untried–
at my age even this
is an adventure


peonies bloom again
after trying to kill them
in ignorance;
what else have I lost
because of my not knowing?

Presence, autumn 2016
Ribbons, spring 2017

Monday, May 29, 2017


                                                spring showers
                                                I peel a red onion
                                                in running water

                                                footprints on the floor
                                                beginning the mud season
                                                with a new mop

                                                 a perfumed breeze
                                                 shaking loose the moisture
                                                 from peonies

Under the Basho
Modern Haiku

Monday, May 22, 2017


                                                      THE DINNER PARTY      

1. Getting Ready

 Mrs. Fraser is getting ready for dinner. A party of twelve. Very special (as always), designed to impress Mr. Fraser's colleagues and their wives.

 A black velvet dress clings to her slim figure. Diamond earrings and necklace.  Silver hair, coiffed in an up-do only her hairdresser can accomplish. She's almost ready.

From a dresser drawer, hidden in her silk lingerie, Mrs. Fraser takes out a silver flask and swallows long and slowly.  The liquid fires up her throat and her nerve.

                                                        a lone walker–
                                                        the night blooming jasmine
                                                        cast in shadow

 2. The Dinner

 Crystal glasses, English china, Belgian lace. A table set for royalty. Mrs. Fraser longingly gazes out the window. A summer night cries out for a barbeque, not caviar and squab; beer not Verve Clicquot.

 On her right is Mrs. Henry.

 Your grandson?  Precocious is he? Toilet trained in one week you say? Remarkable! Did you notify The Times?  Yes, I'm joking. Of course I'm joking.

 On her left is Judson Parker. She kicks his creeping foot away from hers.

 Yes, I agree. Desperate hunger in the world. Should all do our part.  I'll start now and pack up this dinner for the Homeless Mission downtown. What's that you say? A joke, yes. Just a joke.

                                                           bouquet of roses  
                                                           silky petals
                                                           fall with a touch

 3. Saying Good-bye

 Goodnight. Goodnight. Thank you. Lovely to see you.  Next week at the Henderson's? Can't wait to see their infinity pool. A restful view, I'm sure. Perhaps, I'll jump in and disappear into infinity. Yes. Yes. Another joke.

                                                             night voices
                                                             rumbles of thunder
                                                             before the deluge

 4. Lights Out

 Midnight. The house locked down. One more successful dinner. One more gold star. 

 Mrs. Fraser takes out the flask again and places a bottle of pills next to it.  She lines up the pills on her dresser. With slow deliberation her hand moves from pill to mouth to flask, from pill to mouth to flask, from pill to mouth to flask.

                                                           storm brewing
                                                           an owl's call
                                                           thrown to the wind

Modern Haiku, Oct. 2016