Haiku-A-Day

my eyes squint, trying

to decipher the white glow –

time to walk away

that buildup of cha(n/r)ge

as the sky goes dark:  i love

just before it rains

great black-and-grey

silhouettes cruise the coastal skies –

rain in the mountains

new zoom lens

adds new meaning to

“the male gaze”

bookshelves sag under

the weight of millions of words –

a few more can’t hurt.

browsing through

photos of naked people,

looking for good poses

dusk: haloed

moon peeks through

cypress boughs

moonlight catches an

ivory curve; should be asleep

but can’t help gazing

white marble l.a.

sun and scene — little kids in

paper masks run by

tree branches suddenly

thrash about as sideways rain

pummels the windows

blazing white — a swift
drum strike reverberates
through chest and spirit

the windows rattle
buffeted by water and wind:
monsoon morning

grey clouds break;
yellow warmth pushes its way
into afternoon

rainwater tumbles

down the spouts, rushing like

a waterfall

rain sounds fill the
silence, pinging like lentils
in a metal bowl

cold, wet wind, dark sky:
forgetting i’m in southern
california

back and forth across
the stone, gently coaxing the
blade spirit to shine

black rustling:  old man

raccoon rummages for scraps

behind the dumpster.

drifting to sleep –

the soothing staccato

of sudden rain

the world outside gets

indistinct — across the water,

the fog horn bellows

driving home from the

beach — a tiny hawk perched on

a no-parking sign

lying in bed, eyes

shut, daggers in my temples…

bargaining for sunset…

rumble of passing

cars soothes like irregular

crashing waves

cool winds shift inland,

bringing sweet hints of fennel

and eucalyptus

midnight, no wind; just

the tiny pops of bursting beech

fruit under orion

sunlight slips

between drawn drapes, briefly piercing

my afternoon gloom

i skirt the edge with

the plovers: poking in the sand,

looking for jujus

in pairs or alone,

the sun worshippers lie prostrate

on sandy towels

seated on the grass

above the sand, drawing

on my ankles

driving down the high-

way:  to the right, two turkeys

by the railroad tracks