Haiku Sequence

                                                                           MOUTHE, FRANCE

                                                                           Sunday

                                                                           chickens scratching in the road

                                                                           the flying dust

                                                                           at the lumber mill

                                                                           only the river noises

                                                                           and the wind

                                                                           moss covered church

                                                                           creeping through the open door

                                                                           the warmth of May

                                                                           in the graveyard

                                                                           one freshly weeded patch

                                                                           the sharp lettering

 

Modern Haiku, 1974



Haibun

                                              RACHMANINOFF PIANO CONCERTO No.2     

There is drama in the opening chords.  The piano alone— six times the same chord, beginning pianissimo, getting louder with each repetition.  Then a sweeping blend of violins and piano.  I listen and forget the arduous task I’m doing, peddling my exercise bike.  The music lifts me beyond  the mundane aspects of daily life.

                                              icy sleet

                                              on the windows—

                                              empty bird feeder

Now an introduction of horns and full orchestra.  The piano, romantic in tone.  A quiet orchestral melody.  Hollywood borrowed the melody for a film years ago.  Everyone of a certain age would know it.

I’m there in the concert hall.  Spotlight on the pianist, his head bent over the keys, fingers flying. The audience is in shadow. All still but for the occasional  cough or sneeze.  Bike exercise completed, I remain listening.  An increased tempo in the third movement.    Passages of piano fireworks, each note quick, clear and sharp.  I’ve listened to this so often I can anticipate each phrase, each note.  Then the full orchestra again, soaring with the melody and finally closing with a strong crescendo.

                                                   with gloved hands

                                                   spilling bird seed—

                                                   sleet down my collar

World Haiku Review, March 2003

Haiga

Haiku

                                                                        soft snow
                                                                        the cold floats down
                                                                        one flake at a time


                                                                        late winter cold
                                                                        long underwear
                                                                        frayed at the cuffs


                                                                        crackling in the air–
                                                                        on a frigid afternoon
                                                                        tea and ginger snaps
A Hundred Gourds
Daily Haiku
Chrysanthemum