early morning
sun and shadows streak
thinning ice
clinging against hope
for a day’s reprieve
Tanka #6
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Tag Archives: haiku
Winter Haiku #5
yesterday’s snow
streams across asphalt —
blue skies deepen
—
I’ve been working on letting go of a rigid syllable structure for haiku and tanka. It has been difficult – it turns out that letting go of one structure simply means giving myself over to another, however it might be veiled.
Tanka #5
the shallow stream skirts
softened edges of a field —
emptiness surrounds
steady retreat on a path
through morning grey and stillness
Winter Haiku #4
orion hangs low
birdsong presages light
of weeks approaching
Winter Haiku #3
stalks of wild grasses
reach skyward through drifting snow —
brittle remembrance
Tanka #4
the old sentry watches
over mist and heavy water
weathered by time yet
outlasting the faded road
no escape from loneliness
Tanka #3
hundreds of winters
have loosened the barriers
between wind and warmth —
the coldest mornings leave gifts,
delicate intermingling
Winter Haiku #2
breathless light struggles —
long shadows arrive early
in the day’s passing
—
I feel like I’ve been writing around the edges recently. Circling around words that need to be expressed but aren’t ready to be committed. My notebook is littered with opening lines and untitled strings of paragraphs that don’t quite go together. This haiku managed to emerge complete, perhaps a part of circling inward. It is, in any event, one step next to another step, and what this moment holds.
Tanka #2
Rust and fallen snow
rest upon cracks and fissures
revealed by soft light,
confirmation of failure
weathered by time’s measured grace.
Outstretched (Tanka #1)
Not waiting for dark,
when merging is effortless,
involuntary —
clouds, hills, and fields reach across
quiet gaps and outstretched space.
(A Tanka poem. Photograph from a New England late afternoon, 8 December 2012)
bussokuseki 