Haiku
edited by Kala Ramesh
forest park
this urge to walk taller
among the giants
road trip
on the way back
not talking again
outdoor café
cheering his party of one
a lonesome fly
Stockholm syndrome —
the freed magpie-robin
comes back
approaching storm ...
a butterfly enters
the flower shop
first-time kayaking
a dragonfly appears
to lead the way
COVID isolation --
the therapy
of birdsongs
August sky
a column of woodsmoke
meets the clouds
I wonder how long
a thousand years is
drifting sands
spring break
a refugee child blows
dandelion puffs
lavender field
in and out of the flowers
mother’s yellow hat
the chill
in her gaze
winter moon
forest track
the song of a warbler
leads the way
a temple ruin
frost on the bones
of a crow
forgiving myself
the scent of cherry blossom
in the breeze
over suburban marshlands the V of flamingos
the reiteration of life spring sun
marriage migration—
where do I belong
empty womb
how my 35-year-old self
appears
New neighborhood -
the young mother
walks her puppy again
Brewing bitter herbs
more killings
on the morning news
At Mother’s grave
black umbrellas
and a red wool coat
going back
the same way we came
sunflower fields
family outing
every time
the same playlist
on the horizon
scarlet ball reappears -
a lost child is found
heated argument -
the pendulum sways
on both sides
scarlet dusk -
on the apartment eaves
a beehive on fire
sea breeze
when even the moon
tastes of salt
moonless night
I hold on to the comfort
of one dream
fingernail moon
my dreams nowadays
out of season
like a child waiting for snow lotus flower
repetition
of words never said —
stellar dust
snow
all those erased things
to remember
multilingual murmurs . . .
our procession through
the mausoleum
backyard swing ...
the rhythm of her feet
pushing the ground
entering the hospice ...
mother asks me to take care
of her gods
bedtime with grandma —
each crisis saved
by a different god
late afternoon
mountain shadow
crawls across the meadow
hermit thrush
in the bare redbud tree
loneliness
Red Light district Mullahs' shadow hugs a sex worker
no matter where to look starry night
charred earth
a dragon-shaped cloud
breathes smoke
clouds scrape the mountain raven’s cry
sunset over the marsh ...
roseate spoonbills
draw down the sky
burrowing fiddler crabs
we walk the beach
without speaking
passing the oolong
our fingers touch
leaf flush
a towhee sings
from the welcome sign
border crossing
barn door in the wind
remembered notes
of the flute player
snow on cedars
mother’s old coat
gets a new life
soft breeze
the temple bell joins
the birdsong
hair slowly rising
in the evening
coyotes’ call
finding my balance
in changing times ...
autumn equinox
encore!
fall pear blossoms
take a bough
second summer ...
everywhere the fragrance
of fallen leaves
one cloud
chasing another
this bright-and-dark day
daily drama
... above it all
that crescent moon
last night's bruises ...
healed by the remnants
of sandalwood
dispersed seeds ...
my favourite book
thuds on the ground
north wind ...
she bemoans the death
of the poet in her
night journey ...
I carry the blazing moon
with me
sea voyage ...
her rudder cuts through
the sunset
along the mud bank
the slip and slide
of raccoon tracks
trespassing
caught and scolded
by a crow
first light
acorns growing
their shadows
making their descent
geese crash
the silence
deep woods
my chance encounter
with buttercups
morning sun
the small rainbow
in a sweat bee wing
hailstones bounce
in the shallow rock pool
spring sonata
as the crow flies
around the curve
of a river
measuring himself
against the cornstalk
harvest moon
the deer
now buried in snow
dried petunia
hayride. . .
my sputting tractor
filled with laughter
spring chill
from deep in the night
my guinneafowl’s call
first mow—
a bead of sweat rolls
down the grass
summer rain...
washed clothes
washed again
contracting my world myopia
a junction without signboards my palm
doctor’s prescription—
the last answer on my sheet
attic trove –
looking for identity
among yellowed pages
kite flying –
his small hand in mine
trying to tame the wind
roaming the cloister –
lost in the carved pillars
a butterfly calls me back
beachcombing –
entangled fishing nets
talk of lost lives
busy footpath —
a drunk bends to study
his shoelaces
zoom meeting —
giving a presentation
in underpants
our first date —
a corn seller fans
the burning coal
dentist chamber —
people with swollen cheeks
exchange smiles
Sunday noon —
dad hums the wrong lyrics
in his washroom
street refreshments —
her gigantic mouth
gulping the rasgulla
winter leaves
falling one by one ...
the same silence
slow thaw
quietly the sky returns
to the river
old letters
embers crackle
with memories
abandoned hamlet
the silence
of yellow butterflies
a statue to “Hope”
after the bird flies away
only shit remains
clothesline shadow of an empty sock swaying, swaying
full moon ...
you can touch
the dewdrop
moon phases the ensō of circular reasoning
fern sori waiting for something more
volcanic glass
the wind combs through
Pele's hair
campfire toast
a female merganser's
cinnamon head
ancient mountains
become one with the night . . .
you reach for my hand
tinted lenses
an invisible rainbow
reveals itself
concrete jungle
the yellow graffiti
of dandelions
the bridge
that is and isn't there . . .
coastal fog
first snow
caught in the willow branches
my mother's white hair
more solitary than i winter moon
wail of a loon
to a loon -
hunter's moon
gathering storm
the history
between us
the gentleness
of the wetlands
a tern’s sudden dive
forest stillness
condors return
to the Redwoods
harvest moon
the biggest pumpkin
looks at me
rapid growth
of bougainvillea
thorns in my life
ancient turtle
the etching on your shell
reveals the world
songbird
I hear your thoughts
in the breeze
empty shell
someone I know
lost at sea
rising sun
burning itself into
patterns
between dark clouds
and pastel skies
eagle wings
bridge the gap
denied entry by skin
morning light
crosses the border
sugar moon —
the marshmallow
sinks into the cocoa
swamp cypress —
I fall knee
upon knee
wearing away
the stone…the web
of delicate moss
winter…
weeks without snow
what are the bears dreaming
jumping the distance
over scattered tree limbs
sidewalk shadows
the distance
between us
widening puddles
lingering war —
a stranger shovels dirt
on a stranger's coffin
winter solstice
war turns
into war
dementia —
the sun sinks into
a deeper blue
sunflowers
on her smartphone a photo
from refugee camp
lily pads patching a hole in the clouds
mown grass
a clump of poppies reddens
the crickets' song
lockdown
opening the window
to let his soul out
old stories—
the words grow
by the fireplace
rising sun
the translucent chest
of the tiny frog
bombing Ukraine
I read the blogs
about doomsday
amid the blizzard
how to identify
a birch tree
hazy morning
a family of sparrows
visit the yard
after a city bike ride
sifting sunrays
through cafe window
passersby pausing —
three grannys
on a sidewalk bench
autumn morning
the warmth of tea
in both hands
after the storm
small clouds parked
on double yellow lines
doe-eyed chihuahua—
my labrador skids to a stop
in mid-fetch
now and then
thoughts surround her ...
autumn clouds
cold room
the midwife bows
wordlessly
showbiz sky
halos rotate
around each star
silent shallows
a white swan glides
into my solitude
afternoon passes
shadows of pine trees
reach into our kitchen
snow
falls on the shrine
silence
white tulips open
while dark smoke rises
early morning
unplugged—
I walk into the forest
without a sound
family game night
the lantern’s hum
gathering moths
distant thunder …
lifetimes echo
in the oak tree
darkness in the old Redwood voices
a gentle tide
entering my dream
the call of a loon
trail dust …
climbing Mount Hood
with my shadow
campfire embers …
my mother’s voice
drifting to sleep
winter rain —
on my resume
the weight of ink
sunbeams
in a trail of dust
a moth in flight
first confession —
a heavy stone falls
into the sea
revisiting
her tombstone
the scent of moss
among endless
trees and deep valleys
the mystery of me
opening the mailbox
a spider runs away
from the light
memories—
blackbirds scattered
in the backyard
late summer approaching
every crossroads
with caution
empty
the mailbox’s shadow
across the driveway
Sunday morning
in the window
another me
summer heat
paying the water bill
before it’s due
three girls
point in three directions
amusement park
never knowing
which path she’ll follow
sledding
I follow
where you go
river bend
blowing whistles
with a blade of grass
birds answer back
an attacking goose
drives an owl into retreat
election day
Christmas lights
still up in February:
small mercy in a hard year
first autumn air
all together
the lowering gulls
late autumn
feeding sheep acorns
fingers of light
palm fronds
i give myself
to the wind
nimbostratus
an autumn pine
adds a layer of grey
catching my breath
a window
of winter sun
hole in the clouds
maybe something other than
missiles
cattail fluff
the trout on the stringer
gives a lazy tail flick
all the light
the treetops gather
giant wake-robin
trying to get
a handle on things
the knob of a fig
kangaroo paw
the urge to hug
myself
morning glory
the ellipsis
in every seedpod
earth in the soup
even the Vaseline
is liquid
morning mist
the newborn lamb
still wet
path of heaven
subdued by city light --
does anyone remember?
like a shooting star
from heaven
sparrow's flight
two Japanese beetles
in the morning glory
wedding lace
pampas painting September sunset
journey northward
one roadside weed
replaces another
forced tulips
the teen deletes
his browser history
winter dark -
the empty sky full
of honking geese
the iridescence in a magpie's tail -
nothing is black and white
high winds -
a kestrel hovers
somehow
a black dog
in a derelict tunnel -
distant thunder
snow
dancing
jackdaws
receding rain
the pause between
thrush trills
cornucopia
another abandoned
placenta
waltzing rain
the lingering ache
in my bones
endless sky
the perfect shape
of an open palm
wrinkled tomatoes
my skin succumbs
to your touch
breakfast in bed
a cacao ceremony
in solitude
still embers
truth in the sunset
silent whispers
fireflies dropping beads of light expired in the moment
my torn kimono
along the seam
of five summers
snake charmer
a serpent's tongue
flickering
drifting rosepetals
breastfeeding to menopause
twenty turns around the sun
in the summer camp
the lizard jumped over
its shadow
first snowflakes
the intermittent glints
of diving ducks
bones in the snow . . .
a raven tugs
on a wolf's tail
a sapsucker tattoos
the gnarled apple trunk . . .
rites of spring
thunder without rain
sometimes the gods
visit in disguise
economics class
a jet plane in the sky draws
the exponential curve
under the skipping rope
the moon jumps
with me
first paddy spikes ...
a bunch of golden strings
in my hand
even in Kerala
watching the snake boat race
I long for Kerala
wedding album promises to keep
moon clouding and clearing…
the baby
peekaboos his eyes
learning to walk
the spring mudflats…
lotus feet
shuttering the abandoned house
windblown morning
bugleweed
at the gate
full clothesline
in the summer wind
a few pins let go
trees reaching over the trail echoes of boyhood
abandoned state road
wide open—
wild blackberries
train tracks
rusting
into summer’s horizon
sitting to hear what the silence is shouting
our birth
begins our dying ...
cherry blossom
lingering cold
decades after our birth
mother's darkening blues
autumn moon
the scent of candle
heavy in the air
lengthening shadow
another ash print
on my forehead
dew-covered garden
thousands of reflections
better than mine
gingko walk
a stream overflows
with images
ceasefire at dawn the black sunflowers
woodpile pill bug
curling into itself
family cabin
state lines
the punctuation
of run-on corn fields
rhubarb crowns -
a dessert
fit for kings
sunshine
in the toddler’s hand
a daffodil
fields of stubble -
after harvest
I recall dad’s hugs
floating candle
in the bowl
a new moon
knowledge ravaged
by dementia
empty bookshelves
refugee
in a bulging rucksack
her angora rabbit
rotting teeth
a row of condemned
tombstones
board riders
voices rise and fall
on a turquoise sea
leaving some of itself
in the moss
mist lifts from the lake
each strand
drawn with dew –
spider’s web
storm and primroses
beyond my threshold
neighbor's fickle mood
down on my knees
weeding the onions ...
silent worship
almost sunset a parasailer with a rainbow
ash-throated flycatcher the pale-yellow hitch in its song
eyebrow piercing the hushed whispers of strangers
five-decade rosary each morning blackbird a prayer
her sparring gloves
the sudden pop
of a pink peony
how the light catches leaves song sparrow song
poems on the cover a stamped heart
shifting dunes
no need to pedal
with a tailwind
train station goodbye the pain between them
waiting in hospital
the long concert
of a goldfinch
our meeting -
even the clouds
look like flowers
snowflakes -
all shades
of silence
an autumn leaf in silence crosses my silence
step by step I share autumn with my shadow
big squall at sea
the old sailor’s wine
lined with water
friday the 13th
the neighbor's black cat
sleeps on my deckchair
equinox night
the bright moonlight
like a sunlight
my birthday
the delivery guy brings a parcel
for the neighbour
disused rail line
thistles and dandelions
spill over the tracks
somewhere in the rain distant wisteria
everything forgotten shifting moonlight
every snow the same white landscape of her skin
in the hospital windows
nothing but more hospital
how different
these woodland paths
fallen leaves
family reunion
they live their lives
through faded photos
children's laughter—
the woodpecker spirals
up the pine tree
she tells me the truth—
every night the moon
a little further away
the robin's heart
thumping on my finger
mine thumps louder
copper
sculpted into moonlight
beech leaves
a whiteness
through the mist above
a would-be moon
smell of ripe apples
next to the warm stove
Snow White's story
this must be
what heaven looks like
sakura
Tai chi
through the willow tree
a gentle wind
falling petals
the way of spring
to say goodbye
bloodshot sunset
over unharvested wheat ...
war's many faces
explosion
of autumn colours ...
echo of war
first snow
falling on the battlefield ...
young widow's firstborn
blazing poppies
in the blistering sun ...
those vacant eyes
the day comes
with no one from childhood -
unhedged cliff
cooking breakfast-
the cat stares prayerfully
at a passing crow
hearing the music
of the forest ...
autumn rain
a black swallowtail
clings to the parsley
I tiptoe away
fallen leaves ...
the unfinished house
up for sale
window view —
the morning glory
climbs the moon
morning sun
a blue heron lifts
one leg
sound of the train…
waves ripple
across the pond
cicada moon
time comes to
a standstill
full house
you never know
when he's bluffing
rabbit fur
on a barbwire fence
morning frost
petticoat blue panties
wedged in a rock
– underwater blues
bedroom wallpaper
– an odd fly
against the pattern
hanging flower basket
unable to hide
decaying townhouse
white stones in moonlight the beginning and end
in peace and war we live under one sky
country walk
giving a name to the flowers
I don't know
golden sunbeams
my haiku has the voice
of a magpie
using father’s hammer
the nail’s shadow
shorter, shorter
waves keep sinking —
the lies I tell myself
about what I can’t
unmet accusation
the fish crumbles
to the fork
almost full big eyes and smallmouth
the moon a half-eaten snack
orange
flannelling
the wooded hillside
jiu-jitsu
the snowman
has no chance
summer's light
in a circle of fallen
gingko leaves
mailbox names
painted by neighbors
no longer alive
the burl preserved in its bowl
dry dock
the old fisherman's
quiet night
fermenting apples
autumn days
mash together
dune grass
whispering the voyages
of beach sand
just snow petrels before that nothing
seasonal depression...
the cape sand frog
buries its head
day's end
a few petals remain
in the hearse
polished floor
a patch of sunlight
slides
across borders
this language
of snowflakes
ebb tide
shells remain
and questions
watery footprint
one by one the stars
wink back
too much plum wine
the moonlit path home
shines with dew
twenty-eighth-floor terrace
bones of bamboo
clatter
pansy ...
remembering his name
no longer
the sun goes down in my garden cyclamens are blooming
starless night ...
the dark silence
of the sky
our dream
melting like snow ...
frozen morning
a rose blossoms ...
the slow becoming
of a love
locked soldier ants
throw their weight about
—silent disco
driving off-track—
the fattest elephant seal
steals a pre-dug patch
called back
for another scan
the waning of spring
driving into the sunset blinded by birdspatter
the neighbor's St. Bernard comes lolloping over to rescue me
the crooked old tree too heavy with peaches
down your throat
still quivering--
sea cucumber
at the tip of an ancient island diving in
far from home ...
a pair of geese
heading west
slicing today
from tomorrow —
winter lightning
on the road
friends found and lost
the wash of days
death spiral —
the mother octopus
embraces her eggs
winter rain —
cutting the thick pages
of a new book
ahead of me
the endless white road —
noonday sun
our eyes meet
and pass ...
plum blossoms
still
in the moor
voices of autumn
the world in a raindrop red gerbera
an impromptu singalong
with crickets—
candle running out
rash grasshoppers
too much spring
for fall
paper silence
her tip jar clinks
with more loose change
light lingers
the long tilt
towards sleep
night when skies
shimmer too bright
sleep mask with stars
divorce
one loose thread
and the story unravels
highway rain ...
an autorickshaw
chugs along
autumn dusk
a luxury car leaves
the old-age home
weekend morning
a newspaper hangs
on every door
cotton clouds
the many ways he could
have lived more
weekend night
the juice vendor takes
bagasse home
border firing
not all birds fly
one way
harvest moon
no matter which side they turn
Ukraine sunflowers
early snowfall…
aroma of doughnuts
from the old bakery
graveyard shift
a deathwatch beetle
clocks in
my optic nerves thinning the spaces
the seen and the unseen
sun-bleached bones—
a white stone on a distant beach
bares my true name
without
a moment's hesitation
my reflection
after we name trees
darkness drains the forest
of three dimensions
its shape
more fleeting than a teardrop
the match flame
funeral over the song of a woodlark
earth tremor
a fallen
toy soldier
a row of dolls
in the shop window
twilight chill
string puppets are we really free
windsock wherever life takes me
between the id and the ego i walk a tightrope
daybreak
the white dome
grey with pigeons
at war
with ourselves
monoculture
when there’s no one left
to tend your grave
starlight
seaside toilet
even the spider
stays outside
when you realise
what death means
nightingale
the gray pigeon
catches my eye
winter deepens
dogs circle
knots of people
winter dusk
the good old dog days
burning leaves of grass
with a magnifying glass
meeting
an old friend
change of season
first date
a small bird lands
on the park bench
an enso on the scarf baby curl
pilgrims...
thousands of prayers
across the universe
mom's chair...
still hear
her fairy tales
dropping rain
I hum a haiku-song
in a minor key
gentle lullaby
in the tent of refugees
newborn girl
hair cut short
I stop being friends
with the wind
breaking clouds
a litter of puppies left
outside women’s shelter
she calls
I answer—
koel and me
leaving the stars
where they are
mountain river
the path home
becomes narrower
rose bushes
finally in remission rogue summer
moving day
was the house
this big before
midnight downpour
one last page
since three hours
fireflies
my journey has
just begun
used cologne
you linger even after
the funeral
twisted branches
the constant ache
to break free
i carry the face
i dream
with
rocking chair
i come
i go
guilt
of living
i forgive the body
last dance her body is throughout
get together
all parts of me
invited
i
the left-over
of her gaze
peeling off an unclaimed experience
dusk -
a wait gradually
swells
morning prayer
a mantis clings
to my finger
refugee trail
long after humans
scent of wild garlic
spring morning
my bible
without a bookmark
linden path
the lightness
of my father's urn
war front
soldiers' Christmas wishes
in the wind
the darkness
at the end of each day —
full moon
birthday greetings
just a few breaths away
to retirement
romancing the night owl's coos
bumpy road
a postman helps inflate
the tyres
his ashes
next to hers
summer rain
pilgrim's way
slowly, slowly
the pain eases