Matrix Haiku

First published in Matrix #107, Fall 2017, pages 28–29. All poems but one originally written in 2010 and 2011, with the exception (“distant dinner bell”) written in 2014.

the waterfall’s spray

wets my sunglasses—

vacation alone

circles of rain—

tied-up yachts

chumming together

the mayor’s speech . . .

flecks of rust

beneath the anchor

long day—

the shadows of salt grains

on the café table

pea-soup fog—

your lighthouse keychain

lighting the roadmap

trackless shore—

the pock of a shell

dropped onto stones

out of breath . . .

a stunted pine

at the trail’s summit

low tide—

stones still wet

for discovery

spring breeze—

the tree’s penumbra

a lighter green

still night . . .

the sound of plums

beginning to bloom

distant dinner bell—

one more time

through the labyrinth

you gave me this ring

on a day like today . . .

snow about to fall

forest clearing—

swaying leaves bring to mind

a guitar solo