Haiga

A Hundred Gourds

Haibun

INDIAN SUMMER 

 

continues as if it has become a season onto itself except for the brightly colored leaves there is no feeling of autumn perhaps it will not come this year the chilly clammy wet dark days when spirits sink and moods swing there will be no winter either just warm sunny days nights full of stars and the soughing of pines when breezes blow and life will continue as it is now not easy but manageable 

 

checking the accounts

the end of the month

shows a surplus

with money to spend

and no place to go

Contemporary Haibun

 

Tanka Sequence

                                     STROLLING NAXOS

                    the Portara Arch

                    leading to the sea

                    and the ancient past

                    the known and the unknown

                    stories of lives lived

 

                    stray cats

                    slinking through ourdoor cafes

                    yellow eyes alert

                    our presence watched for signs

                    of sympathy or carelessness

 

                    and old door

                    warped and splintered

                    the hinges rusty

                    a picture framed

                    with pink oleander

Modern English Tanka 

 

Haiga

Wales Journa

Haibun

From the Old School 

 

He takes my arm, not to lean on, but to guide me across the street. This father protector, his sole acknowledgement to his 102 years is a cane used more as an adornment than an aid. At my invitation, we are sitting outside having lunch at a seaside restaurant, but he is in charge. He gives the waiter my order and his. He asks for wine and we toast to each other’s good health.  We admire the view and watch the waves and the gulls as they swoop and dive. We reminisce about the past, his long past and my shorter one. Even before the check arrives, he has cash in his hand and insists on paying. A gentleman always pays the check, and this old man is still a gentleman who will not  give in or give up. 

 

floating with the tide

each wave brings him closer

to the shore

------------------------

World Haiku Review  

Haiku

hot afternoon

a shop bell jingles

on Mainstreet

Simply Haiku

Haiga

.

Haiga Reality

Haibun

A Night Alone   

 

It is a rain pinging, downspout gurgling, wind gusting, pines shushing, leaves swishing night. It is a game after game of solitaire losing night. It is a facing eternity, an aging awareness, a "what's life all about?" night.  It is a tug of war between graceful acceptance and angry depression night. It is a slow ticking of time, of darkness until the first filaments of dawn infiltrate the recesses of my brain with a new day’s promises night. 

 

twenty-first birthday

able to vote and to drink

to follow all my dreams

            joys and riches wait ahead

            the rainbow's gold within reach   

 

young and foolish

seeing the distant future

with myopic eyes

knowing now that blurred vision

is a gift that gives us hope

Adelaide Literary Magazine

Haiku

 Failed Haiku

Haiga

Haiku Reality 

Haiku

 swaying grasses

brush against bare arms

thoughts of you

Modern Haiku

Haiga

 Haigaonline

Haiku

 abandoned homestead

spring breezes rustle

old memories

The Millbrook Independent

Haibun

 

Nirvana

 

Hot dogs, burgers, fries, cotton candy, pop corn, and ice cream. Summer food at Savin Rock, the amusement park. After eating, always sticky hands and smeared faces , and, sometimes, a stomach ache. The best of all these treats was found in only one place at the far end . 

 

soft shell crab

wind and waves and salty air

all in the taste

Presence 

Haiku

 mottled sunshine

the flash

of a gator's tail

Presence

Haiku

 fresh cut grass

following me. . .

until lilacs

Cattails

Haiga

 Daily Haiga

Haiga

 Gean

HAPPY HOUR     

 

Apples sauteed in butter with brown sugar and cinnamon. Sunday morning breakfast to be eaten on the deck.  After a week of rain, followed by a five-day heat wave, a perfect Sunday arrives and shouts that something special is in order. Add orange juice, toast with strawberry jam and lots of hazelnut coffee

 

The sun’s rays are filtered through the Japanese maple. No need to open an umbrella. Birds in trees are vocal, but unseen. The stream, also unseen, gurgles softly. I leave my cell phone inside. Phone calls can wait. Emails and text messages can wait. This hour is mine.

 

so easy to ignore

the pleasures of each day

to push past small joys

            I slow down my breathing

            and open up to wonder

Drifting Sands, spring 2026                                        

Haiku

 

decaying barn

the emptiness

locked inside 

Cattails

 the moon pauses

between a gap in the trees—

half an answer

A Hundred Gourds

Haiku

 ice storm

sculping the pine

needle by needle

Bottle Rockets

Tanka

 daffodil tips

through patches of snow

are the first sign

they send me rushing

to wear something yellow

TSA Anthology

Haiku

 

winter sunshine

I borrow the easy chair

from the cat

Presence

Tanka Prose

 

What Remains

 

We are newly married, live in an apartment, have no garden, but for entertainment we browse nurseries. On an impulse, we buy a small lemon tree to give to my parents for their back yard. 

 

My father is not a gardener, and we have only a hope that the southern California sun and an occasional watering will be sufficient for the lemon tree’s survival. Dad, however,  adopts that seedling, tending to its needs as a father to a child. Watering, fertilizing, pruning. It thrives, and through the years produces more than enough lemons for my parents and for us and neighbors. In his late years, living alone, Dad is neglectful of the house, but not the lemon tree. After he dies and the house sold, the new owners cut down the lemon tree to create an unencumbered back yard for their children’s play area.

 

lemon blossoms

swirling in the breeze—

a look back

to a memory sweetened

with the passing of time

Contemporary Haibun Online 

Haiga

Failed Haiku
 

senryu

 

howling blizzard

how to be loved and still

deny him the car

Failed Haiku

Haiku

stone masons

the rock wall takes the shape 

of their ancestors

Presence

Sequence

 

COLD WEATHER THERAPY  

lazy afternoon

Ol’ Blue Eyes

warms a memory–

the promise of spring

in his song

 

reaching my ears

his mellow tones

melting my mood

the hard winter forgotten

with dreams of summer

 

 cocooned by snow

 I listen to his voice

 spinning his love songs

 spinning me down

 that long ago road

Heritage Hills Newsletter