The following “Haiku from Index Cards” take place in autumn. I have many more autumn poems than the selections shared here. See also “Seasonal Haiku.”
autumn again . . .
a walk in the woods
with a few old friends
(written 2014, published 2022)
autumn colours again . . .
we share a cup of cider
on the verandah
(written 2015, published 2020)
autumn drizzle—
a stack
of old business cards
(written 2014, published 2024)
autumn rain—
for once I’m not
feeling lonely
(written 2011, published 2018)
autumn rain
in a dangling well bucket—
its emptiness overflows
(written 2002, published 2016)
autumn chill—
a red maple leaf
rimed in white
(written 1990, published 1990; see “Two Autumns”)
autumn dusk—
tonight you don’t ask
what I’m reading
(written 2010, published 2011)
autumn insomnia—
a drake’s spurt of quacking
in utter darkness
(written 1999, published 2002)
autumn leaves . . .
my last letter
left on his casket
(written 1990, published 1993)
autumn moon—
a silver leaf folds
over the weir
(written 1990, published 1992)
autumn overcast—
a passing school bus
yellows the curb
(written 1992, published 1998)
autumn rain—
the clack of the dog tag
on the dog dish
(written 2001, published 2013)
autumn stillness—
the shadow of the chimney’s heat
on the neighbour’s roof
(written 1996, published 1998)
autumn stillness . . .
the windmill’s shadow
turns to dust
(written 2011, published 2013)
autumn sun—
I ship the oars
for the loon
(written 2015, published 2016)
autumn sun—
my hand released from the cool trough
restarts the waterwheel
(written 2002, published 2006)
Although the following bonus poems don’t start with “autumn,” perhaps they could:
fall colours—
a short line
at the post office
(written 2013, published 2023)
fall colours
beginning to show
my niece’s 13th birthday
(written 2010, published 2020)