The Bamboo Hut Press, 2014

Haiku, Senryu, Micropoetry, Tanshi and Sedoka:

harvest moon . . .
crisp apples and wedges
of geese

night drive . . .

a deer leaps over

the moon

frozen grasses

the sound of winter

beneath our feet


at solstice
we share a glass
of sunlight


groundhog day
scattered flurries
of snowdrops


diving into sky
pearl fishers
and cormorants


blue moon . . .
wingprints on snow
and a tuft of fur

summer rain . . .

puddles of confetti

beneath the arbour


sundown
the wine-drenched sea
fills my cup


evensong
a choir of crickets
and wind


frozen reeds
the north wind plays
winter's flute

winter trees

hold the opal moon

in their arms


eclipsed
behind earth's eyelid
bloodshot moon


calypso orchid
on the forest floor
shadow dancing

dusk

oak leaf lanterns

light my way

sun and moon . . .

the rise and fall

of your breath


ice chimes
the thawing lake
exhales


blossoms
of mock orange
peel open summer


coyotes wail
the old dog twitches
at my feet

moon garden . . .

the night blooms

with scent


lady slippers . . .
the way she dances
in her garden

writing haiku

words and lines

play leapfrog


listening deeply
to the poetry of water
i become a wave

twilit lake

the trees and I

reflect


ice wine
the fermenting
of memories


Christmas lights . . .
the shrivelled ghosts
of spiders past

wild horses

these deep fears

unbridled

mortar and pestle
grinding my teeth
into bonedust

spring cleaning . . .

I sweep lies under

the rug


icicle . . .
the melted taste
of you


the new year
counting calories
instead of stars


frost warning . . .
I add covers
to the rose bed

hummingbird . . .

father hovers over

his garden

another year
another pound
of flesh

open window . . .
my nocturne tickles
the ivory moon


woodpecker . . .
he taps long red nails
on the bar

polishing
my glass poems
until I see

a dragonfly
sips from my cup
I fly away


biting wind . . .
even the sun dogs
stay inside

laundry day

the weather girl

sorts clouds

drifting silently

down the line

a pilgrimage into myself

no chains binding my heart

no sorrow prophets

reading my tea leaves