Zen Haiku

Poem 5315

how composing
is the garden Buddha
cloaked in moonshine

the widower’s sports car
he waxes weekly…
the last one

autumn begins
a change to the books
I take to read outside

autumn leaves burning
we play hide and seek
in grand-pop’s garden

in the window mirror
she passes to work–
her bump rounder

at dusk
and how the leaf falls sound
I no longer see

a summer breeze
leaving me to potter
about the herb garden

jazz album
letting the vinyl track
past midnight

nothing else, all is drought
just the tumble-weeds
piled at the fence

summer kisses
the rain and I turn
to face each other