Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Haiku

Golden Triangle Sign

Washington, DC. March 2022


Thursday, March 17, 2022

Haiku


 windfall apples
in my pockets
enough for a pie
Bottle Rockets

Sunday, March 6, 2022

Haibun

AFTERNOON AT THE GUEZE de NEVE CAFÉ  


I am a woman alone, sipping wine in a corner café. On this last Thursday of November the Brussels sky is overcast.  The awning on the tobac across the street flaps in the wind.


bell above the door–

settling near the window

a few dried leaves


The café, named after a local beer, has blue décor. Blue and white tiles on the floor, blue and white ceramic plates on a ledge along the walls, blue and white half curtains on the windows, a blue haze of smoke swirled across the ceiling by a creaking paddle fan.  The proprietress, wiping glasses behind the bar, has a cigarette burning in an ashtray. Two customers drink coffee and smoke.  I light up my own.


pop music–

unintelligible words

French or English


Outside, snow flurries, spattering shoppers’ coats, parked cars, the tobac awning.  The old fashioned pendulum clock loudly ticks away the afternoon. Dusk darkens into night.  Lights come on outside and in the café.  Through my window reflection I see a familiar figure hunched against the wind-blown snow.  His conference over, my husband joins me.


cold hands in mine

he orders brandy for two–

a Thanksgiving toast


Simply Haiku