Haibun

A DATE

He was tall. Sandy colored hair that had a slight wave and poetically handsome, A Byron, a Shelley, an Ashley Wilkes.

I should have known when he said, “A movie’s too long; I don’t like miniature golf; I’ve had enough coffee today. Let’s just go for a drive.”

I should have known when he left the convenience store with a six-pack of beer. 

I should have known when he parked the car he would want more than a kiss. 

I should have known that after I told him, “No. Take me home,” he would not call again. 

peak autumn– 

the brightest shade of red

on poison ivy 

A Hundred Gourds

Haiku for Spring

fast flowing creek

rushing towards the river—

the stillness in me

woodland phlox

a soft touch

on my thigh

his just shaved face

the fragrant coolness

of early spring

Another Trip Around the Sun

Another Trip Around the Sun

Tiny words

Haibun

A PICTURE POSTCARD

A green and gold landscape.  New wheat and rape fields set out in connecting squares.  Black and white cows spotting open pastures.  Lichened stone walls; solid rough wood barns and farm houses.  Flower fresh window boxes trailing summer against dun colored walls. 

a mountain village

resting above the fog line–

the quickness of change

Bottle Rockets

Tanka Sequence

TRAVELING ALONE 

                 

restlessness begins

in the long wait for departure

checking lists again

I long for the sureness

of your planning

I do what you did

and try to follow

your methods

but know my suitcase

is still too heavy

   PRESENCE Winter   2020  

Haiku for spring

spring accessories

purple and yellow crocus

on a grassy bank

the first ant

scurrying

escapes my broom

World Haiku Review

Presence

Haibun

 Stage Directions 

Spring usually comes in on a yo-yo. The temperature is up; the temperature is down. This spring is no different. I wait for the snow to melt off the flower beds. I am impatient to get a rake and clear away winters debris and expose dark, rich dirt, to see the tips of daffodils, tulips and iris, to watch forsythia buds, now small and brown, grow fuller and fuller until they erupt into bloom. I eagerly await the weigela’s blossoming, filling an otherwise bare canvas in one corner of the garden with a splash of fuchsia. Azalea, dogwood, peonies, lilac–all standing by, waiting for their cue to appear. 

a growing warmth

arthritic joints respond

to a robin’s song 

Samurai Contest 2019

UHTS, 2nd place

Tanka sequence

The Last Move

facing facts

I toss sentiment aside

when downsizing

all I need to keep

are memories of him

my treasure chest

filled with memories

of his love

as I fade in looks and strength

they become stronger

Ribbons