April Haiku

April 2016

crooked branch
adorned with buds
spring evening

sunlight filtering
through tree branches
gold and black

in darkness
my mind grows dim
i must rest

chapped lips
from band rehearsal
a good day

topaz glistens
on windborne ripples
street-lit lake

blustering winds
trees bend like toothpicks
slate-grey sky

all day spent
staring at a screen
tired eyes

minimalist music
washes away all stress
tabula rasa

strutting
across the lawn
two crows

blinded
behind the wheel
golden sunset

sand dripping
as time dissolves
spring semester

a quiet moment
between storms of panic
serenity

off the ground
with wings outspread
a mallard flees

no animal,
apart from humans, fears
running out of time

across the street,
a black cat waddles to greet me,
dragging swollen belly

squealing,
a baby rabbit squirms
in the cat's mouth

eyes itching
and red, dripping nose.
every spring

a bald eagle
devouring a dying fish
by the lakeshore

on these days
it is impossible to write.
fickle muse.

in a moment
i suddenly understand:
poetry is life

three people
getting their photos taken
having a blast

a tiger-cat
reclines, bathes, and sleeps
on my back

eyelids droop,
sore from a day’s rubbing
spring allergies

at a crossroads
the path i choose is simple
but not easy

Pheasant struts
Across the asphalt road
Just in time

 

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