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Haiku Spirit Issue #20 




For today
nothing in my diary -
silent birds on the roof

Empty sky -
the sound of an icicle
falling on snow

Ion Codrescu

Sitting zazen
the pigeon's note
inside my head

my potted strawberries
in the rain

Helen Robinson

Rusted tracks -
in a remote house
notes of a flute

At the bottom
of the church wall
a lost chessgame

Each drop of the icicle
takes with it
the moonlight

September morning
sharpening the pencil
the smell of wood

north wind -
the restless swallows
above my house

far from home -
in a clear light
that lone old oak

wild apple tree -
a falling leaf
changes its direction

rising the blinds
the late September light
on my hands

after the bath
turning off the bedside lamp
moonlight on the Bible

one after another
the mountain peaks
out of the fog

endless wind -
the birch trees uncover
their branches

unfolding a dry leaf
I find a few drops
hidden inside

autumn rain -
ending his drawing the child
caresses the paper

Written in a mountain village in Catalunya Spainduring summer - autumn 1999

Ion Codrescu

Nothing to avoid
as late sunset falls behind
the pines & vast sky

Broken pine branch moon -
a robin starts to sing about
the season's first frost

Walking up the hill -
but no longer a burden
the clouds on my back

Still feeling homeless
I let the winter wind blow
away this sadness

Winter persimmons -
how they bring to mind the blush
of that first kiss

With the winter rain
a robin hopping - hopping
into endless dusk

Wind brings lonesome thoughts -
in the middle of the night
a poem comes to mind

(on my 58th birthday)

Bill Wyatt

Moving on
after twenty six years
I paint the skirtings

The dog's eating wasps -
on the veranda
I read your haiku

George Marsh

together we notice
two black mushrooms

Sean O'Connor

Out of darkness
wind chimes
made of bones

Ken Jones

It says "I" now,
my widowed dad's
answer phone message

My two-year old son,
so much like me,
woke me up snoring

Even whiter
than this summer cloud
a seagull's belly

Careful, fat fly,
you're entering a room
with carnivorous plants

With a man's shirt
this old lady
washing her windows

Gilles Fabre

This nameless torrent
how its water flows
through me!

Rough cinder path:
I hold onto
my mother's hand

Helen Robinson

Winter sun
a tiny mite and its shadow
creep across the page

Flaking paint
on the abandoned boat -
daytime moon

Moss between the cobbles
children's voices
echo in the alley

Martin Lucas

Whose back is it
going off into
the pouring rain?

Taneda Santoka (1882-1940)


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