Distance

The following “Haiku from Index Cards” go the distance.

distant birdsong—

a row of holes in dirty snow

beneath the icicles

             (written 1993, published 2000)

distant car horn—

in the empty studio

the faceless portrait

             (written 1997, published 2007)

distant church bells . . .

a sparrow’s breath

    lost in the holly berries

             (written 1996, published 2020; see also “Ringing the Bell: Learning Haiku from Mary Ruefle”)

distant, in the redwoods

the now-and-then voice

of a hiker

             (written 1993, published 1998)

distant moo—

the faintest of blossoms

on the pruned branch

             (written 1997, published 1998)

distant school bell—

a tree I don’t know

beginning to bud

             (written 2012, published 2013)

distant siren . . .

an unexpected drizzle

mists my sunglasses

             (written 2002, published 2009; see “The Hilltop Castle” rengay)

distant surf—

Sirius mirrored

in the reed-fringed lagoon

             (written 1992, published 1997)

distant taiko—

the cherry blossoms

trembling

             (written 2014, published 2023)

distant traffic hum—

the stone buddha’s

moss-filled crevice

             (written 1996, published 2000)

distant train—

he flicks again

with his gold lighter

             (written 2018, published 2019)

distant train . . .

in the morning mist

the loon stops paddling

             (written 1996, published 2001; see “From Last Train Home”)

distant train sound—

ink from the lost cat poster

runs in the rain

             (written 1997, published 1998; see “From Last Train Home”)