ant5

 

my cold feet

step on her bra

still warm

 

fallen elm leaves

the plastic bag

remains

 

unlocking the door

the key she gave

back to me

 

I buy

another book about

non-attachment

 

 

Modern Haiku 25.2

 

 

a beautiful mouth

the postal clerk says

she likes my writing

 

 

Modern Haiku 25.3

 

 

fast-food containers

the weeds green from

the warm rain

 

 

Modern Haiku 26.1

 

 

the hot asphalt roof small white petals blow in circles

 

her hand covers my ear the sound blood makes

 

 

Modern Haiku 26.2

 

 

tea our silence and the hot still morning garden

 

light warm rain

mosquitos drift up

through wisteria and dusk

 

the full moon

coats the dark lake

boarding an empty bus

 

 

Frogpond 18.2

 

 

the orange glint of rush hour way up there a hawk circling

 

a train enters the distance empty sheets smooth and cool

 

imagining her with someone else behind the blinds the moon

 

weeks later her sweet voice it’s just a machine

 

the crosswalk whistles skimming the pavement an empty bag

 

 

Frogpond 18.3

 

 

in the dust splotches of rain half the billboard flaps in the wind

 

a gliding egret the clouds converge on themselves

 

 

Frogpond 19.3

 

Tagged: Chris Gordon, Frogpond, Haiku, Modern Haiku