Haiku and Tanka for Shrike

      by David Budbill

Two hundred years ago and
half the world away Issa said:
His patience expired,
from high in his treetop
the old shrike cries.

Again. Here. Today.

All morning the shrike
waited in the apple tree
for a chickadee
to forget. Then he, fed up,
so to speak, went on his way.


From Moment to Moment: Poems of a Mountain Recluse, Port Townsend, Washington: Copper Canyon Press, 1999, page 85.