Zen Haiku

Poem 1044

Garden sundial
mother’s house
sold without it.

Garden sundial
an ice frost
that was snow this week.

Both tyres flat
a child’s bike beginning rust
against the sundial.

Suddenly there
a magpie on the sundial
shading midday.

Sundial garden
lingering … the scent of basil
plucked for dinner.

Garden quiet
up and over the sundial
ants in a hurry.

Sundial garden
then in winter nests
just sparrow bones.

In the mirror
the orange tree swinging
its solitary fruit.

In the mirror
the self-drawing slips
from Laurel’s hand.

After his wake
father’s face
in my shaving mirror.