HAIKU

I picked up a book
off the shelf this morning
one hundred haiku

it was like sitting down
a word starved man, tired
of searching for an always
denied sustenance, and here
laid out before me, a repast
of the sweetest grapes,
bits of sugar caressing
a tongue grown used
to the often bitterness
of ill-considered prose.

As midday approached
I knew that this was a meal
to which I’d return.

HAIKU

The small house fly has
no arachnophobia
only once in life.

In the Norway Spruce
pine cones threaten to descend.
Squirrels sit waiting.

In the sunlit park
the small dog watches the man
go fetch the thrown ball

Maple leaves emerge
almost certain that winter
is now history

A rain of petals
cherry snow covers the ground
we await the fruit.