O Miscellany

The following miscellaneous “Haiku from Index Cards” all start with the letter O.

objects in mirror

are closer than they appear—

your hand on my thigh

             (written 2006, published sometime before 2015; see “Haiga with Gary LeBel”)

office entrance—

holding my breath

past the smokers

             (written 1993, published 2002)

oh, Kamakura—

I step inside

the Great Buddha’s emptiness

             (written 2013, published 2021; see “Tokyo to Kamakura” sequence)

old fishing village—

a spider’s webs gathers

the moon

             (written 2009, published 2009; see “Swaying” renku)

old folks’ home—

a dried spider

falls from the stucco

             (written 1990, published 1996; see “Spiders” renku)

old folks’ home—

      the square of light

            crosses the room

             (written 1990, published 1991; see “From Haiku World”)

old gas station—

one suction cup popped loose

on the closed sign

             (written 2013, published 2016; see “From Off the Beaten Track: A Year in Haiku”)

old men playing chess

      two stones

            for missing pawns

             (date written unrecorded but probably 1989, published 1990; variations in the first line included “old hobos playing chess” and “playing chess in the park”)

OMG

the Grand Canyon

at sunset

             (written 2008, published 2008; see “Text-ku” sequence)

on crutches—

still I go

to see the cherry blossoms

             (written 2016, published 2019; see “Still I Go” sequence)

on an old memory card

a photo of my sister

in her chemo wig

             (written 2013, published 2016; see “From Off the Beaten Track: A Year in Haiku”)

one slow swing—

the echo of the axe

in the chicken coop

             (written 1993, published 2007)

one . . .

together we count

the falling stars

             (written 2005, published 2009)

on

  i

on

             (written 2017, published 2020)

only so far

onto the beach

tracks of a wheelchair

             (written 2010, published 2015; see “My Poems in Tinywords”)

on the merry-go-round

with my daughter

a few fallen leaves

             (written 2012, published 2013; see “My Poems in Haiku Society of America Anthologies”)

open door

     the empty pew

          within

             (written 1990, published 1991)

opening the cabin . . .

last year’s calendar

set to September

             (written 2001, published 2008)

opening the front door—

the warmth of the morning sun

through the doorknob

             (written 1990, published 1992)

opening the orchid

a little bit wider,

the weight of the bee

             (written 2007, published 2009)

orange twilight—

the empty firehouse

with its doors open

             (written 2001, published 2004)

organ arpeggios—

dust trembling

in the slanted cathedral light

             (written 2003, published 2017; left at Poet’s Corner at Cathedral of St. John the Devine in New York City, where I wrote this poem)

orthodontisteetherized

             (written 1997, published 2008)

our faces in silhouette

at the bottom of the well,

my boy and I

             (written 2013, published 2022)

our last hug

at your doorway . . .

the clock, ticking

             (written 21 January 1996, published 2000; for Jocelyn Conway)

outdoor concert—

the bobbing flute

keeps catching the sun

             (written 1992, published 1994)

outdoor concert—

the new conductor

settles the score

             (written 2014, published 2022)

over and over the scales on the neighbour’s piano

             (written 1995, published 2020)

overturned tricycle—

the patter of rain

in the wading pool

             (written 1993, published 2001)