Tag Archive for haiku

Forty-seventh Saturday

Blue-and-white striped tug,
Black tires nailed to painted hull,
Frothy wake behind.

Tide out, river calm.
Dots of seagulls, rolling waves,
Sentinel pilings.

Cormorant pops up,
Looks left, right, nothing to see,
Arcs and dives again.

Forty-fifth Saturday

Flaw in heavy clouds.
Sun pours through, hits long ridge top.
Buildings all light up.

River flat and calm.
Fallen yellow leaves drift past
Two ducks breakfasting.

Cormorant takes off,
Flaps low over water's glass
To fresh fishing ground.

Forty-fourth Saturday, from Indianapolis, four days late

War memorial.
Hidden inside cannon's mouth
Sparrow peeks from nest.

Cascading water
Splashes into blue-tiled pool
Darkening pale stone.

Green leaves yellowing.
Tiny lights wrapping brown bark.
Wind is soft, but cold.

Forty-second Saturday


Gull turns head, looks back,

Sits like floating crescent moon,

White on blue water.


Bright sun, chill north wind.

First time in this waning year

Jacket feels too light.


River’s sharp ripples,

Helicopter’s rattling thrum,

Shaking, fraying leaves.



Forty-first Saturday, from Raleigh, NC, one week late*


Sweep of brown oak leaves

Rustling along red walkway

Past black café chairs.


Apple muffin crumbs.

Small brown birds hop hopefully.

Steam rises from tea.


Sun bounces off glass.

Brick-paved plaza’s split in two —

Light here, shadow there.


*because I only just located them, that’s why



Fortieth Saturday


Young grackle’s sweet call

Rises over traffic’s whoosh.

Another answers.


Runners get respite.

Rain abates, fades to thick mist.

Sneakers splash on stone.


Bedraggled pigeon.

Calm in storm, no time to groom.

Eat now, preen later.



Thirty-first Saturday, from Rancho Obsesso

Hatchlings fledged and flown.

Early summer’s bird riot

Calmed to indolence.


White slash of sailboat

Rocking over wrinkled sea

Under rounded clouds.


Orange trumpet vine

Tangled in green foliage

Against brown shingles.

Twenty-ninth Saturday, from Assisi


Tile roofs’ corduroy

Soft with spots of olive moss,

Spiky with dried grass.


Sun slides above hill.

In valley, sudden shadows

On newly bright fields.


On pine tree’s bent tip

Mourning dove lights, balances,

Calls, waits, calls again.



Missing the haiku?

With everything that’s been going on I’ve had to declare a haiku hiatus.  Mostly just so I could use the phrase.  It’s kind of great, right, haiku hiatus?  No, really, the haiku will be back, possibly as early as this Saturday.  But I hate to leave you haiku-less, and luckily McSweeney’s has stepped up to the plate.

Here you go: the SCOTUS marriage decision, in haiku.