contemporary haiku since 1994
February 7, 2026 § 1 Comment
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after the funeral
just enough rain
to make a sound
February 7, 2026 § Leave a comment
let tbe grave dirt
cling to your pants
a bit longer
funeral
the shovel
a tiller
in the same boat
the dog the cat
and the chicken
circle of shopping
carts smoke from
the center
she calls the stars
seeds left by
the fog
where the mist
settles
frogs
three spoons
each making
its own stain
that’s not stardust
those are
stars
inside the blue
light the question
you haven’t answered
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