Poem

Seasons Journal

haiku/senryu

To hear the poet read “Seasons Journal,” click here.

seeing her off
only incense greets him
coming back into the room

stretched on the floor
after a long day’s talking
rubbing noses with his cat

first frost whitens grasses,
first white smoke
from his neighbor’s cabin

snow at night:
deep-sleeping population
comes drifting down

friend not seen for years:
gray whiskers
around the boyish smile

after the staid snowfalls
the rain now
splashy as children

on and on
reading a friend’s new novel
wishing to be more kind

the great dead mallow
ready for chopping
springs purple flowers

mind wandering,
suddenly driving very fast:
Mozart in the car

farmers’ market
carrying flowers carefully
down crowded aisles

girls jump rope
in out pepper pepper
old man wipes his brow

evening tea
contemplating the great kindness
of everyone

before they risk a word
the poets at the lily pond
drink three cups of wine

awkward moment:
gazing into each other’s eyes
a bit too long

summer’s offering
ants on the windowsill
ants in the cat’s dish

on Hendry’s Beach
respectable, leashed dog, sniffed
by free-ranging others

collecting beach stones
holes and odd edges:
slow artistry

house-mice scurry
awake from their naps
after the heat of the day

digging out the dandelions;
readying ground
for the next generation

throw-aways at the curb:
inside-out umbrella
bed that wouldn’t work

the poppies sway
the wind looks around
the cat licks herself

awake, listening:
laughter of guest love-makers
trying to be more quiet

cooling evening breeze:
the potted plants take water
yield back earth-scent

late for work
he stands there reading
an old love letter

patch of moonlight
rocking, rocking,
won’t come in with the tide