Terebess Asia Online (TAO)

Back to the Modern American Haiku Poets

Haiku by William J. Higginson (1938-2008)

More intricate
than all winter's designs,
this spring flake

from the sandy beach
I stumble into
path firefly

A wet night
garbage cans all full
but the far one

The clock
chimes chimes and stops
but the river . . .

Holding the water
held by it—
the dark mud.

atop the rock
the rising tide

evening star
almost within
the moon’s half curve

this spring rain
the thief too
curses his job

grey dawn
ice on the seats
of the rowboat

the tick, tick
of snow on the reeds . . .
sparrow tracks

New Year’s Eve . . .
thieves have left my car open
in the falling snow

commercial break—
the cat and I
head for the kitchen

the fence post
hangs upright in the washout—
mid-summer heat

going over a bump
the car ahead
going over a bump

the old cat
hesitates on the doorsill—
a falling leaf

summer storm . . .
a shopping cart rolls past
the end of the lot

winter twilight
only a few old bakers
in the potato bin

crescent moon
would I look at the clouds
without it?

origami frog:
what old pond is he hoping
to find in the dusk?

I look up
from writing
to daylight.

writing again
the tea water
boiled dry

reading renku—
every stanza links with
the midwinter cricket

thankful for
the books just received . . .
snow piling up

musty smell
forgotten . . . deep
into the text

spring rain
rereading my own book
I fall asleep

Christmas concert
I sit in the seat of my
hospitalized friend

misty rain—
dry pavement under
the ambulance

fireworks crashing
and fireflies so silent . . .
tomorrow the biopsy

one maple leaf . . .
end over end on the sand
without a trace