Akita International Haiku Network

birthday picnic—

grandma’s throw

half way to the toddler

we walk the boardwalk hand in hand

sharing ice cream

headaches

after-dinner mints

passed around the table

. . . slow-falling snow

busy Italian restaurant—

happy birthday

sung to the wrong table

express checkout

the fat woman counts

the thin man’s items

at his favourite deli

the bald man finds a hair

in his soup

rice chaff

whitens the scoop—

supper alone

apples picked

and the casket chosen—

lingering sunset

grocery shopping—

pushing my car faster

through feminine protection

a crab apple

from the highest branch

rattles down the rain spout

the waiter interrupts

our argument on abortion—

a choice of teas

first day of school—

I eat my buckwheat pancakes

in silence

bookmobile day—

huckleberries bloom

along the white picket fence

breakfast alone

slowly I eat

my melancholy

a table for one—

leaves rustle

in the inner courtyard

a deer leaps—

the hunter’s

closed eye

tarnished silver

the only guest

eats in silence

a withered apple

caught in an old spine rake

. . . blossoms fall

gunshot recordings

echo over the vineyard . . .

a grackle’s stained beak

a broken bamboo cane—

ripe tomatoes

glow along the ground

cafeteria line—

the good-looking girl

looks at my plate

first dream—

the way home

perfectly clear

New Year’s Day—

the phone ringing in time

with the temple bell