The following “Haiku from Index Cards” just might be all wet.
rain at the skylight . . .
the homeless man leans closer
to the Chagall
(written 2004/2005, published 2016)
rain at the window—
eulogy notes
folded in my pocket
(written 2023, published 2024; see “Hunger” solo rengay)
rain at the window—
my dead father’s
open mouth
(written 2014, published 2016, with German translation)
rain dripping
from the red-and-white awning . . .
I catch your yawn
(written 2003, published 2009)
rain in the forecast—
what have I done
with my afternoon?
(written 2013, published 2016; see “From Off the Beaten Track: A Year in Haiku”)
rain in the sandbox—
a common sparrow
shakes its tail
(written 2003, published 2017)
rain on snow—
a sparrow in the hedge
comes out for a sip
(written 1996, published 2017)
rain on the roof—
the first red leaf
falls to the gutter
(written 1990, published 1992)
rain on the windshield—
the streak on the road
from the dead cat
(written 2003, published 2008)
rain splatters
the uneven sidewalk—
I break my mother’s back
(written 1997, published 2019; see “Mother’s Back” rengay)
rain-spoiled picnic . . .
in the back of the station wagon
a chip-bag uncurls
(written 1992, published 1993)
rain streaks the window—
an old phone book
burning in the stove
(written 1993, published 1995)