cold

down river

the last light dims

cold autumn night

jump

sunset two fish jumping into the sound

quiver

yesterday’s rain

dawn quivers

on my lashes

white

full of fog

morning flows on

white with sounds

popcorn

empty hallway

i breathe the thought

of someone’s popcorn

open

open window

the cool fall air

i lie down with

heron

for a moment

i am the heron

first light

hurricane

hurricane relief

the ripening of

holly berries

blue

cool blue air

though an open door

autumn evening

death

my friend’s death . . 

walking her dog

through moonlight

hospice

one duck floats

on a cloudless sky

hospice pond

blooming

wisteria

mother son granddaughter

blooming

again

the same trail

the same old friend

night again

stranger

public gardens

i pass through the scent

of a stranger

cicada

one cicada

then another

september eve

rush hour

rush hour

our echoes meet

in the stairwell

plastics

coastal flood warning

the reanimation 

of plastics

lonely

one duck

tonight the river

has a lonely voice

deep nowhere

http://www.haikuhut.com/FailedHaikuIssue22.pdf

dawn

cinnamon tea

drinking the scent

of dawn

rebuilding

hurricane season

the rhythms of

rebuilding

calm

sunrise

my reflection knows

the river’s calm

until

until the flowers storm damage

squirrel

outside my window in sickness in health the squirrel

whistle

a window

with a whistle in it

autumn wind

wilting

flowers wilting

a four bottle cap

kind of day

bullfrog

wind gusts

a bullfrog croaks

in between

lifetimes

i lose count

of all the lifetimes

hospital windows

either

fence line

the sounds of dawn

on either side 

passing

wavelets

from a passing boat

my bare feet