Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Bad Haiku

Like the old man from down the street
last night I found the moon
wandering around my garden.


Full moon.
I tossed and turned all night
in your shadow.


With a scrap of paper
the flowers light their lamps.


The doors are closed. The house is closed.
There are no metaphors.


Lost, I stopped in the street
to ask. But the pretty blue flowers
refused to say which way to go.

Impossible Haiku

The frog makes the sound of a leaf
turning over in its sleep.

I am tired of the mountains.
The ashes of dawn on the rose bush.
The old clocks.