Sunday, 23 December 2012

each snowflake


each snowflake
is unique
Christmas Eve crowd

previously unpublished



emptying streets
unsold Christmas trees
adorned with snow

also published in Asahi Haikuist Network, January 2013



silent night
the rustle of snow
against the window

previously unpublished

Monday, 17 December 2012

distant city


distant city
the woodcutter’s smallness
under a beech tree

first published in A Hundred Gourds, December 2012



mum in hospital
I bring her the smell
of wind in my hair

first published in A Hundred Gourds, December 2012



string of cranes
the kite that broke loose
from my hand

first published in A Hundred Gourds, December 2012

Monday, 10 December 2012

fresh snow


fresh snow
the warmth surrounding
your bones

first published in The Heron’s Nest, December 2012
republished in The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku 2012



everyday walk
the air is full
of other places

first published in The Heron’s Nest, December 2012



winter sun
a dwarf with the face
of a tall man

previously unpublished

Monday, 3 December 2012

winter evening


winter evening
outside the pub
a girl without matches

previously unpublished



full moon
I empty
another glass

previously unpublished



a cube of ice
in a glass of gin
her bitter coolness

previously unpublished

Monday, 26 November 2012

black cat


black cat
in white socks
village dandy

previously unpublished



swans white
from melancholy
spring dusk

previously unpublished



a thud of hooves
in the silent woods
autumn twilight

previously unpublished

Sunday, 18 November 2012

meeting


meeting
my and your
loneliness

17th International Kusamakura Haiku Competition, Third Prize



widow’s place
the rusty gate
graced with roses

previously unpublished



last leaf
on the dark limb
red sun

previously unpublished

Sunday, 4 November 2012

milk moon


milk moon
waiting till the cows
come home

previously unpublished

 

empty fields
I hang my eyes
on a lonely tree

previously unpublished

 

hard rain
I watch
the swollen river

previously unpublished

Sunday, 28 October 2012

autumn rain


autumn rain
a thrown out paper
turns into pulp

previously unpublished

 

the wind blows
her raven-black hair
autumn dusk

previously unpublished

 

grey roots
of her dyed hair
frost on dead leaves

previously unpublished

Sunday, 21 October 2012

twilight river


twilight river
my alter ego wants
to drift away

also published in Notes from the Gean, August 2013



the spider wraps
a sleepy fly
shortening days

previously unpublished



lost in universe
the folks
from this village

previously unpublished

Sunday, 14 October 2012

dry spell


dry spell
I touch her
flammable skin

previously unpublished



pressed for time
mother recalls how I moved
in her belly

previously unpublished



cemetery
under the snow
white lies

previously unpublished

Sunday, 30 September 2012

soft voices


soft voices
out of the dark
sickle moon

previously unpublished



candy floss
the child’s face
just sweet

previously unpublished



with so many
beauty spots
the toadstool

previously unpublished

Sunday, 23 September 2012

autumn fields


autumn fields
you have a vague
notion of me

previously unpublished



vacant house
the moon looks in
but stays out

previously unpublished



I really need
to slow down
and fast

previously unpublished

Sunday, 16 September 2012

playing children


playing children
when did I find out
I would die?

previously unpublished



seaside village
a boy launches a boat
on a puddle

previously unpublished



nestlings in the hole
of a withered birch
the child in me

previously unpublished

Sunday, 9 September 2012

psoriasis


psoriasis
beauty is only
skin-deep

previously unpublished



suffering
under the pain of
nullity

previously unpublished



after winning
the rat race
still a rat

previously unpublished

Sunday, 2 September 2012

gathering storm


gathering storm
a trickle of sweat
down the reaper’s spine

first published in A Hundred Gourds, September 2012



summer afternoon
dust on the dictionary
of ancient culture

first published in A Hundred Gourds, September 2012



your body’s a hut
in the middle of nowhere
sick of wanderlust

previously unpublished 

Sunday, 26 August 2012

wild geese


wild geese
the beating of my heart
in the injured finger


first published in Frogpond, summer 2012



first year of her death
bees pollinate the blossoms
on a broken branch

Vancouver Haiku Invitational 2012, Sakura Award



forgetting
all your kisses
each day one

previously unpublished

Monday, 6 August 2012

river bank


river bank
I think of the poor
cash flow

previously unpublished



back from court
all my universe
null and void

previously unpublished



tired of looking
for employment
the Book of Job

previously unpublished

Saturday, 4 August 2012

beech forest


beech forest
she says we need
new furniture

previously unpublished



so tired
of the rest
of you

previously unpublished



night rowing
in the middle of the lake
deep silence

previously unpublished

Sunday, 8 July 2012

summer evening


summer evening
the grey moths
get to flowers

previously unpublished



how life is
flowing down me
summer rain

previously unpublished



drying laundry
the sleeves of her shirt
reach out for me

previously unpublished

Sunday, 1 July 2012

sun after rain


sun after rain
downing the whole sky
with one swallow

previously unpublished



the smell of the sea
from all directions
I am an island

first published in Notes From the Gean, June 2012


all day
on a drip
autumn rain

first published in Notes From the Gean, June 2012

Sunday, 24 June 2012

hospital ward


hospital ward
a patch of sunlight
climbs the wall

previously unpublished



suddenly lost
the children playing
hide and seek

previously unpublished



the crow’s feet
around her eyes
barren fields

previously unpublished

Sunday, 10 June 2012

summer rain


summer rain
the naked statue
steaming

first published in Modern Haiku, summer 2012



tumor malignus
that ancient language
not yet dead

first published in Modern Haiku, summer 2012



late afternoon
a thin shadow
of her former self

previously unpublished

Monday, 4 June 2012

wrong time


wrong time
the old folks busy
with their dying

previously unpublished



marking time
the sweep hand shines
for a second

previously unpublished



bullet train
I take a nap
to kill the time

previously unpublished

Sunday, 27 May 2012

ruined chapel


ruined chapel
Jesus on the cross
hangs on


previously unpublished



ready to love
now that I have
no neighbours

previously unpublished



thinking of you
in darkness
my long headlights

previously unpublished

Sunday, 20 May 2012

country cottage


country cottage
the host apologizes
for every convenience
 

first published in Asahi Haikuist Network, May 2012



mispronouncing
the victim’s name
the newscaster smiles

previously unpublished



idle words
faded flags fray
in the wind
 
previously unpublished

Saturday, 12 May 2012

gusts of spring


gusts of spring
the gauzy dress clings
to her body

previously unpublished



sleety night
crickets chirp on the farm
of reptile food

previously unpublished



bonking a goddess
from the neighbouring village
the toll of church bells

previously unpublished

Monday, 30 April 2012

May morning


May morning
I’ve got a frog
in my throat

previously unpublished



mute swans
the swoosh of their wings
in my ears

previously unpublished



killing a gnat
I shed my blood

previously unpublished

Monday, 23 April 2012

consumption


consumption
each year coughing up
more money

also published in Prune Juice, November 2014



in the company
of wolves
corporate howling

previously unpublished



rush hour
the hearse driver
lets me in

also published in Prune Juice, July 2014

Monday, 16 April 2012

all-day blizzard


all-day blizzard
the old armchair
growing deeper

first published in Frogpond, winter 2012



full packed church
how many devils will fit
on a pinhead

previously unpublished



escaping balloon
my son’s first lesson
on non-attachment

previously unpublished

Monday, 2 April 2012

hard rain


hard rain
I try to soften
my words

first published in Notes From the Gean, March 2012



cemetery dustbin
the smell
of rotten flowers

first published in Notes From the Gean, March 2012



sermon on illness
the woman with Parkinson’s
shakes her head

previously unpublished

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

early morning


early morning
the trash truck takes
my dream away

first published in A Hundred Gourds, March 2012



a puddle
on the dirt road
bottomless sky

first published in A Hundred Gourds, March 2012



an old romance
first to slit
the musty pages

previously unpublished

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

shimmering lake


shimmering lake
how unimportant
what’s important

first published in The Heron’s Nest, March 2012



the scent
of her unsent
letters

first published in Modern Haiku, winter 2012



shrew
such a small
death

first published in Modern Haiku, winter 2012

Monday, 5 March 2012

seeing love


seeing love
in the twinkling
of an eye

previously unpublished



distant stars
her eyes still shining
after the big bang

previously unpublished



lovemaking
the bedroom fan
begins to squeak

previously unpublished

Monday, 27 February 2012

evening walk


evening walk
the scent of flowers
cooling off

first published in HaikuPix Review, summer 2011



in the dark
she takes off her tights
flash of sparks

first published in HaikuPix Review, summer 2011



summer grass
she smells a little
bit of me

first published in HaikuPix Review, summer 2011

Monday, 13 February 2012

autumn woods


autumn woods
warmer and warmer
hues of dying

first published in HaikuPix Review, autumn 2011



an empty bench
the wind flipping through
a love story

first published in HaikuPix Review, autumn 2011



purple glitter
on her sleeping body
year’s first sunrise

first published in Asahi Haikuist Network, February 2012