A Haiku Each Day

Sixty-two hundred and five Syllables a year.

Archive for nature

Birch Trees

Winter tats her lace
Delicate white traceries
Birches in the snow.

Swallows

Swallows dip in flight
To kiss their own reflections
On the autumn pond.

Memory

The old mockingbird
Still imitates his whistle –
How many summers?

Beach

Red-rimmed yellow eye
Seagull glaring at the sun
Daring it to blink.

Turning Leaves

Autumn polishes
Rubs off summer’s patina
Green yields to copper.

After Basho

Quick as a surprise
The first migrating falcon
Over Cape May Point.

The Basho haiku that inspired me, loosely paraphrased:

Solitary hawk
The delight of finding it
At Irago Point.

Hawk

Pigeons and sparrows
Panic into whirling flocks
Pointed wings above.

Ladybug

Smooth-shelled hemisphere,
Candy-colored polka dots,
Beneath: the dark jaws.

Windy Day

Willows blown sideways
Like kelp in a strong current
Wind is air’s riptide.

(The first haiku I wrote since being assigned one in grade school; it doesn’t have an immediately obvious kigo but the wind bending trees in half has to be the early-winter kogarashi.)