Haiku

H

butterfly
sleeping
on scat

(after Buson)

sunset ridge
dragonflies hover
above the distant city

prayer beads counting birds on a wire

the view
from Mt Baldy
no words

a streetlight turns off cracks in the ceiling

paddling
against the current
carrion smell

far offshore
a fish leaps
no sound

(published in HSA Anthology 2017)

a streetlight turns off cracks in the ceiling

what she said
of god, of love—
a hack saw

these words are all I have are these words

the slow fall of sunlight
down rough hewn siding
blueberry moonshine

the smell of her broken moon

the silence of night
a quiet cacophony
bourbon, rocks

with the sword I thee wed

empty bourbon bottle
I am not
what was done to me

under the fan
her note flies from my hand
Key West heat

my dead father
every time I cough
every time…

(after Issa)

one dog barking
after another
distant siren

playing clarinet
with her dog
pierced ears

that guy in First Class
leaning right—
recycled air

after Bingo
so much depends
in the laundry basket

footprints in the sand
are washed away by the tide—
summer love

About the author

Eric Jennings

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By Eric Jennings

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