one poem every day

the haiku man

Month: June, 2016

when your words run dry/

or you’ve lost the horizon/

find the cookie dough


after a long drive/

cold whisky and a hot tub/

feet up on the chaise

scratch the puppy’s head/

a little behind the ears/

kind and thankful beast

once, it was all trees/

forested hills on a bay/

now, it’s a Starbucks

in the lumber aisle/

trees cut into rectangles/

sold for paper bills

on the waterfront/

in the Pacific Northwest/

one kayak at dusk

daylight well past nine/

the Eastern sky still light blue/

one bird feasts, treetop

twenty years ago/

in a red cap and red gown/

hoo boy…twenty years

sun, but mostly clouds/

thunderstorms in the forecast/

a day for hot scones

Northeasterly breeze/

blue sky on the horizon/

birch leaves fluttering