Matrix Haiku

First published in Matrix #107, Fall 2017, pages 28–29. All poems but one originally written in 2010 and 2011, with the exception (“distant dinner bell”) written in 2014.


the waterfall’s spray

wets my sunglasses—

vacation alone


circles of rain—

tied-up yachts

chumming together


the mayor’s speech . . .

flecks of rust

beneath the anchor


long day—

the shadows of salt grains

on the café table


pea-soup fog—

your lighthouse keychain

lighting the roadmap


trackless shore—

the pock of a shell

dropped onto stones


out of breath . . .

a stunted pine

at the trail’s summit


low tide—

stones still wet

for discovery


spring breeze—

the tree’s penumbra

a lighter green


still night . . .

the sound of plums

beginning to bloom


distant dinner bell—

one more time

through the labyrinth


you gave me this ring

on a day like today . . .

snow about to fall


forest clearing—

swaying leaves bring to mind

a guitar solo