Before

If haiku are poems of the here and now, when is the “before” moment? These poems from “Haiku from Index Cards” all foretell the future.

before I can pluck it

from the fireplace

the ping-pong ball pops

             (written 1991, published 1993)

before I realize

     I’ve turned away from the viewpoint

my turning away

             (written 1997, published 2002)

before I weigh myself

on the bathroom scale

shaving

             (written 2017, published 2017)

before lovemaking

she soaks her hands

in hot water

             (written 1993, published 1994; see also a tanka variation at “Footsteps in the Fog”)

before our first date

the rainbow

at the car wash

             (written 2012, published 2013)

before Sunday dinner . . .

the sun filters through table lace

to the dog’s nose

             (written 1992, published 1995)

before the guests arrive

I straighten

the straight cushions

             (written 1995, published 2000)

before we kiss

two moons in your eyes

             (written 1992, published 2022; see “A Trumpeter Swan” renku)