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M i n e My poetry (at least the poetry I'm willing to share) is limited to hiaku mostly. Haiku is a Japanese poetic form that consisted of three lines with 5,7, and 5 syllables each. There was usually a clue that would tip off the attentive reader as to the time of year. Beyond that, haiku is supposed to create, in the readers mind, a near photographic image. Now, reader beware, my haiku form is very sloppy. I strive harder to create the image than count syllables. If this offends, I'm sorry. Otherwise, enjoy. (If you are interested in reading haiku by the masters, read some on my other poetry page.) I reviewed this page after I wrote it and I really feel that placing all of these poems on one page injures the individual images within each poem. In another incarntion, this site might contain only one poem per page. For the time being (and those who know me know that a re-work is a long way off) this will do. With all of that in mind, please, take your time. Think about each image, its implication and its reflection on the author. These were written to be savored, not gobbled. writing in the park drops of rain blur my words the end of winter gust of wind creates a blizzard of flower peddles beneath the pear tree puddles of rain rimmed with yellow pollen the end of winter it's only a shower the people with umbrellas miss the azalea buds a lone girl under the dogwood blooms deep in thought a lone girl stares at the azalea blooms and plays with her hair busy in her blooms the bumble bee ignores me she cares nothing for poetry i write harmlessly white azaleas on all sides hidden from sight two hundred miles from home found a hair on from my cat fluttering in the breeze below the driftwood the pebbles are still rounded it's a manmade lake rising in the east it looks like a huge opal the full moon with windows open i hear two crickets and one frog the air is humid i'll need no covers the spring here is brief writing in the sun tree shadows on my paper undressed for winter reading outdoors the sun low to the south is still warm on my face yellow leaves falling past my window my cat thinks they are birds a yellow hackberry leaf falls past my window my cat jumps up to watch sleepy grey cat curls up on a grey blanket february snow storm drifts of snow blow like smoke past the window crossing the road a crow runs the red light in front of me the firefly looking for something in the tall grass the autumns first frost makes the grass sparkle with the full moon light february dawn morning light like weak coffee is just not enough february dawn excited chimes in the wind the windows rattle february dawn blanket wrapped, i sip coffee and listen to the wind reading by lamp light it's too dark for this time of day the first cricket this year lightening flashes returning to my book the windows rattle forgotten in winter the daffodils push aside wet leaves late summer branches droop, heavy with fruit two new cherry blossoms beneath the oak tree large black ants seach through my clothes what have they lost