Here's this week's heap of haikus:

 

Ha, ha, ha, it's Spring!
The lap-dogs of Winter are
in retreat! Hoo-ray!!

 

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This, in essence, was
the plan our moms had for us;
wear us out, we'd sleep.

 

 

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3-14-15-ku:

 

Once a year, Pi day
comes around. It should be squared.
But never mind that.

 

 

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The writer just smiled;
he knew thoughts were fleeting, but
wet ink would soon dry.

 

 

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Puddles ripple at
the edge of a lonely street.
Intermittent rain.

 

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A tangle of trees
may clutter the morning sky
but happily so.

 

 

 

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Waiting for the dawn,
he lay in somber darkness,
replaying events.

 

 

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Lunch with an old friend;
laughter at shared history,
tears for tomorrow.

 

 

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Dogwoods bloom at last!
Spring’s celebration of joy
finds Riverside Park.

 

 

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Double haiku:

 

In a sleepy town,
off the beaten path, lived a
man who knew nothing.

He was fed by cows,
carried by horses and was
worshiped by his dogs.

 

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A lonely bus stop
on a Monday afternoon
I count the taxis.

 

 

 

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Still feels like Winter;
All I do is stare at the
flowered wallpaper.

 

 

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His tortured soul found
small measures of contentment
just beyond its reach.

 

 

 

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Alone at Midnight
walking through old neighborhoods,
prompts strange memories.

 

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Each day, he walked through
his garden and picked a rose
to place on her grave.

 

 

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tanka haiku:

96th Street's ramp
to the West Side Highway is
a thing of beauty.

   A tree-lined, curved underpass
   with a view of the Hudson.

 

 

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My heart lives near the
sycamores and still blossoms
after ev'ry rain.

 

 

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Will you shine a light
to help us pierce the darkness?
April's almost here!

 

 

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tanka haiku:

 
Clinging to her form,
the diaphanous gown made
her ethereal.

As she stood in the moonlight,
she glowed with Love's own glory.

 

 

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A tiny sparrow
is chased by a feisty pup
pulling a young girl.

 

 

 

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If you only stand
facing West, than nothing will
ever dawn on you.

 

 

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Young men that follow
H. Greely's advice, will one
day be going East.

 

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Ripped from the headlines-ku:

 

An explosion rocked
my neighborhood, and yet I
did not hear a thing.

That is, until the
helicopters and fire trucks
rushed onto the scene.

four blocks from where I
work, the burning buildings would
sadly, soon collapse.

 

 

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The green glow of night,
a downtown drenched in fog, an
escape by subway ...

 

 

 

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Though fragile hearts need
whispered blessings, they also
need a steady hand.

 

 

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It's sad when 'modern'
is said to be passe; the
future is finished.

 

 

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The light from my room
spills onto a snowy roof,
Icy shadows flee.

 

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Locomotives rush
across bridges and I think
of Buster Keaton.

 

 

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The small magpie roosts
on a flowering plum tree,
a warm sun shining.

 

 

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Over a basin
a woman washes off an
amorous pursuit.

 

 

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By the lilly pond,
she shed her inhibitions,
and from there we fell.

 

 

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Tulips in the field
chase away receding snow
clearing paths for Spring

 

 

 

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double haiku:

 

If my soul's taken
before I should awaken,
am I forsaken?

don't think your soul's gone
when you're sleeping past dawn; you
might wake on the lawn.

 

 

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No longer straight-laced,
They have, no doubt, lost their soles ...
When work boots go bad.

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To the Master, let
praise and cheers be given, for
he has changed our world.

(Happy 85th birthday this past week to Broadway legend Stephen Sondheim!)

 

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An anemone.
yearns to be a violet,
but feels conflicted.

 

 

 

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  Tanka haiku:

 

  For long term illness,
  Life on a biologic,
  Is no miracle.

   It's a reminder of what
   might have been ... and that's enough.

 

 

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

 

 
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He framed her photo
  in the hope that her spirit
  would never leave him.

 

 

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A lonely bus stop
on a Monday afternoon
I count the taxis.

 

 

 

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You must cover stops
to start the music ...  take your
piccolo and blow.

 

 

 

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He hesitated,
needing to sharpen his edge.
Time was almost gone.

 

 

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She wore gingham and
polka dot dresses, which made
her seem cartoon-ish.

 

 

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Old men and eye drops;
As if we need more proof our
aim ain't what it was.

 

 

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But in the end, you
will give up ev'rything to
do what you like most.

 

 

 

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As I fall asleep,
whispers and memories drift
through my consciousness

 

 

 

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In a wicker chair
by the sea shore, sits a young
temptress dressed in blue.

 

 

****

 

 

April is Spondylitis Awareness Month. 

 

 

 

We are walking again this year to raise awareness...

YOU can join us!  For more info go to:

http://walkyourasoff.com/

 

My team is The Spondyville Fusers.   We're looking for more members!

 

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