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Alexis
K. Rotella
Selected Haiku
Graveside:
grandson
blowing
dandelion
Late
August
I bring him the garden
in my skirt
During
our argument
a pink rose
tightens its petals
Winter
chill:
the moon moves away
from the geese.
through
the bird skull whistle of wind
soaking
up the moon . . . the snail
This
heat:
a pilgrimage of black ants
along the pine snag.
Blackbirds
spring
from
a bolt of silk
Lightning:
in
the crack of a boulder,
violets.
pause
in his sentence . . . distant crows
Blackberry
pickers—
a child's laugh escapes
from an old woman's body.
A
head comes out
of the turtle's shell—
the roshi's flute.
At
the pool hall
spouting zen
the young stud.
In
the marsh
a heron alights
on an old sofa.
After
the first snow
rabbit tracks
connecting graves.
A
wet spot
on the rock
where the frog sat.
At
the top
of the ferris wheel,
lilac scent
The
silence
of paper lanterns:
morning rain
swans
stir of his breath against my hair
VOICE OF THE MOURNING DOVE (A Collection of Haiku)
Rain
in the voice
of the mourning dove.
They
once moved
among the stars—
elk antlers in the snow.
Sheep
chewing
fog.
Senryu
Lying—
I tell him I’m not looking
for a prince.
During
our quarrel
he corrects
my grammar.
Trying
to forget him
stabbing
the potatoes.
With
all her might
the spurned woman
throws the wedding rice.
"How's
business,"
I ask
the undertaker.
Gourmet
Club dinner—
sautéing kidneys,
the urologist.
She’s
running for office—
for the first time
my neighbor waves.
After
heart surgery,
someone sends the patient
a shaker of salt.
Old
man
first he asks to die,
then for a ham sandwich.
Before
visiting the cemetery,
Grandma irons
a handkerchief.
Quickly
I powder my nose
my mother
staring back.
The
priest comes to bless
the house and pees
all over the toilet seat.
After
the atheist’s sneeze
I bite
my tongue.
No
one tries
to catch it—
bridal bouquet.
http://www.millikin.edu/haiku/writerprofiles/AlexisRotella.html
http://www.millikin.edu/haiku/research/RotellaChula.html
http://www.poetrylives.com/SimplyHaiku/SHv3n3/senryu/senryuFeature.html