it wasn’t until spilling
half the miso soup from the pot
that I remembered I own a ladle
10 November 2013
Oak Street
Category: Haiku
the first autumn snow
fell wet and heavy today
it’s already gone
24 October 2013
Oak Street
a rose by any other name
shield bug on the door
seeks shelter from the autumn chill
she and her scent aren’t welcome
18 October 2013
Oak Street
car dealership haibun
Three men in white shirts are moving back and forth in front of the tall windows. The sun is streaming into the waiting room but they’re not concerned about the weather. They’re looking out into the lot, straining to see a head of hair or a hat bobbing between any two cars. The telltale signs of a customer. You’d think the lot would be packed on this gorgeous fall day, but those who can find a job are at work and the rest can’t afford a car. The tiny trees wave in a lackluster breeze, headstones placed in memory of what once must have been a forest. The men in white shirts keep watch.
waiting room man
eats crackers in monk’s hat
sun warming his neck
*
old man stares raptly
at television hunting program
waits to hear his name
*
magazine on her lap
she looks at me when I speak
but doesn’t respond
15 October 2013
State College, PA
feet hanging off a dirty rooftop
strumming a blues as the rain starts
thinking of you
4 October 2013
Oak Street
head thick as mortar
autumn air warm through open windows
first night in new home
dog asleep on a beanbag
cool air slinks in the kitchen door
I sit typing under the stopped fan
29 September 2013
State College, PA
sunshine iced tea bagel
“I Saw Her Standing There”
Green Fig in July
trudge trudge trudge
slip trudge trudge trudge slip trudge:
Albany blizzard
no two are alike
as they fall from the winter sky:
poisoned birds