Here's this week's heap of haikus:

Birds of a feather
deciding whether or not
to flock together.

(Thanks to Kristina Rebelo for the use of her photograph)

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Come Winter, the trees
are merely shelves for snowflakes,
biding time till Spring.



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tanka haiku: On a corner lot,
a two-story brick building
is all that remains.

Glories of another time,
too soon reduced to rubble.
 

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triple haiku:

The cinnamon toast
was brown and speckled and the
buttered oatmeal hot.

 

At his cousin's house,
breakfast was a ritual
he found confusing.
 

"Where's the Cheerios?"
he asked, "And why honeydews,
this isn't Sunday!"

 

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Pretty little birds
cling to small branches, and sway
in the gentle breeze.

 

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Are you a misfit
and conspire to rebel?
Get in line, my friend.


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We shall persevere
and rise again tomorrow
to tend our gardens.

 

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I walked through a field
to get to the main road, and
lost all track of time.



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We're not defined by
what we have lost, but by what
we do with what's left.


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Hats worn at movies,
in days gone by, were targets
for stale ju-ju-bees.



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tanka haiku:

But then, the cloud came.
Couples stopped dancing and old
men rose to their feet.

Children seemed bewildered, but
saw fear in their parents' eyes.


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The falling leaves will
make the mulch that will feed the
soil, which grows the trees.


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tanka haiku:

We fight our whole lives
to thrive in the world of our
parents, only to

discover that we're living
in the world of our children.


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Icy sidewalks dare
my hip replacement; take a
walk on the wild side.



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A sliver of moon,
slicing through the clouds ... restless
shadows roam the fields.


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In the darkest night,
there remains an ember which
will re-light the dawn.


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Too many wind chimes,
not enough jello shots; the
story of her life.


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The Cathedral of
St. John the Divine is STILL
unfinished.  Dear G*d ... 

(Photograph of NYC's Cathedral of St. John the Divine being built in 1915. )


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They were so poor that
his mittens were made out of
used coffee filters.


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tanka haiku: There is a sad fear
that’s buried deep in my heart;
that no love will last.

So I pretend Time’s not cruel
and hope memories won’t fade.

 

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Nantucket lightships
cast their beams out to the sea ...
“Warning! Rocky Shoals!”


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In spite of the cold,
a bird sits in the tree and
sings its song of Spring.


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With hearts full of grace,
and souls generating love,
we shall overcome.

(Thanks to Jim W. for the Martin Luther King, Jr. quote that inspired this haiku.)


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A nurse hovers o'er
her unresponsive patient.
Will she let him go?


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Exhausted, they slept
in a field of bluebonnets;
bodies still entwined.



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‘Polar bears’, she said,
‘are the largest carnivals.’
(She meant carnivores.)


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The fabric of Life;
From order to chaos
we slowly unravel.


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Coffee and crullers ...
Sitting on the dock, watching
the boats come and go.


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Saunter through the woods,
leaving all your cares behind,
immersed in nature.


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I walk down the street
measuring each step, hoping
not to break mom's back.


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Down a garden path,
that leads to a wooden bench,
I find solitude.


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When you walk through a
storm, hold your head up high ... The
rain will look like tears.



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(Tuesday January 21st would have been my dad's 100th birthday.  He died at age 57. This photo was taken in 1942 while he was stationed at Ft. Sill in Oklahoma )

Finding old snapshots
of my dad being silly
makes me laugh and cry.


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tanka haiku: 

They say black orchids
are mysterious, and a
harbinger of death.

But orchid comes from the Greek
word for testicle ... So nu?
 

(Thanks to Kristina Rebelo for the use of her photograph)

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Life is short, live it.
Love is abundant, embrace it.
Anger is destructive, release it.
Fear is a challenge, face it.
Memories are comforting, cherish them.
Life is a miracle, enjoy it.

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