A Haiku Each Day

Sixty-two hundred and five Syllables a year.

Archive for pseudohaiku

Geometrid

Hidden in plain sight
A gray moth on gray tree bark
Waits for night to fall.

12th Street

An old trolley track
Slices the street with silver
Sunlight after rain.

Drawing

Pencils trace a line
Lines form shapes and shapes limn forms
Paper comes to life.

Grapes

Bursting on the tongue
Juicy purple amethysts
A stem of black grapes.

Boots

My old hiking boots
Bearing dust of distant paths
Walked with distant friends.

For, among others, and in alphabetical order, B.M., E.E., H.G., M.Q., and N.C.

Windstorm

Wind howls from the sea
At the closed amusement park
The Ferris wheel spins.

Gathering Storm

Distant thunder snarls
Lightning stabs the horizon
Now – the plunging rain.

Crows

Black blots against blue
Coarse cacophony of caws
A murder of crows.

Amber

Ancient tree’s relic
Frozen sunlight, captive fire,
Brighter than diamond.

J’accuse

Sunset-cast shadows
Point long fingers to the east
Implicating night.