a few haiku

Month: March, 2012

beneath the flowering cherry my future hidden in the roots 

the pain in my back and notebook all for this little white flower

a hawk in morning light flies through the window of the train

bare branches the house that celebrated every holiday

I remember the meeting and curse at no one my tulips and clouds

long cones on the old pine the morning air fills with exhaust

spring rain the cold flesh of tonight’s dinner

before the day unfolds its face the slow swell of white blossoms

red clouds this morning the garbage truck backs into my tea

between grey Bronx buildings a magnolia’s pink stretches