Zen Haiku

Poem 5288

roof completely winter
the patches of moulds
unwashed by the rain

ancient caves
the bats sweep out to
their sounds of the night

winds turning autumn
in the rushes of litter
my daughter and I

school vacation
they re-fill their dives
into the river

the harbour-sun sets
such an orange to the winds
nodding the boats

jogging
on the long way home
a carpet of leaves

creaking as she moves
the windjammer
stretches into the first light

timber cabin
only the far far snow
making me write

leaves in the wind
the thousand chases
around our school yard

open window
my clarinet’s solo
out to Saturday night