Bird HaikuHere’s a selection of my haiku on the topic of birds. These poems have flown into various publications on three continents, including Acorn, Birthday Tomorrow (HPNC anthology), Dogwood Blossoms, Frogpond, The Haiku Anthology (Norton), Haiku Compass, Haïku sans frontières, Haiku Pathway Katikati (2003), Haiku Quarterly, Haiku World (1996), Heron, The Heron’s Nest, The Loose Thread (Red Moon Anthology 2001), Midwest Haiku Anthology, Modern Haiku, Northwest Literary Forum, Roadrunner, Shades of Green (Haiku North America conference anthology, 1997), Shiki Internet Haiku Contest (1995), Snapshots, Snow on the Water (Red Moon Anthology 1998), South by Southeast, Thornewood Poems, Woodnotes, and Yellow Moon. In addition, shown here, “beneath the moon” is carved into stone on the Haiku Pathway in Katikati, New Zealand, which I hope to visit one day. Read more Haiku and Senryu, or Essays on haiku.
wet beach sand— a sandpiper’s song of footprints
under the eaves a barn owl’s shadow another
the silence between us a quail finds its way through the underbrush +
the kite’s tail ripped from knotty branches— mockingbird song
the gull’s cry— the shape of the wave before it curls
taxis in a line at the county airport— migrating geese
the day after Christmas a flock of sparrows lands in left-over trees
stopping on the footbridge to gaze at still pools— a sparrow’s wings flutter
still water— the blue heron steps in the moon +
summer afternoon— the worm in the robin’s beak still twisting
squawk of a jay— walking sticks left at the trailhead
spring birdsong . . . unopened the longest, the heaviest present
sparrow at dawn— how slowly the light changes with the song
shimmering sun above the river an osprey circling
open sky . . . the wounded call of a snow goose
New Year’s Day— a team of seagulls on the wet infield
morning bird song— my paddle slips
morning sun— frost melted where the robin pecks
landing swallow— the ship’s chain dips slightly
jays squawk from redwood tops— the hush of distant traffic
heron stepping through the reedy marsh— the billboard’s shadow
hummingbird at the window —my blink startles it away
hospital room— the crane’s flight through the wallpaper
full moon at midnight— a barn owl glides out of the slaughterhouse
first snow— the random tracks of Canada geese
first glimpse— white swan in the forest pool
first flakes . . . the curve of the snow goose’s neck
distant train . . . in the morning mist the loon stops paddling
distant church bells . . . a sparrow’s breath lost in the holly berries
distant birdsong— a small leaf falls down the back of my neck
cool summer night— a full moon frames the bird feeder
cloudy day— a magpie squawks from the sundial
clouds of pollen drifting through sunbeams— a sparrow’s sudden flight
beneath the moon the heron’s slow step
apple picking— a feather blows from the empty nest
an old woolen sweater taken yarn by yarn from the snowbank
as it flies off the cliff the folding of the sea gull’s feet
a white swan shakes her tail at last the ripples reach her mate
a robin’s song the next hospital bed now empty
a meadowlark’s call amid a flurry of leaves . . . the woodpath turns
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