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George Swede's
Haiku
http://home.primus.ca/~swede/
warm
spring breeze
the old hound runs
in his sleep
treeless
downtown street
two spring robins
on a window box
waving
goodbye
to the father a clothesline
of children's shirts
on
the face
that last night called me names—
morning sunbeam
almost
unseen
among the tangled driftwood
naked lovers
grandfather’s
old boots
I take them
for a walk
Paris
pond
a frog Picassos
my face
roadkill
raccoon
snowflakes start to cover
the teeming maggots
after
the abortion
she weeds
the garden
Young
widow
Asks for another
fortune cookie
again,
the bald barber
cuts my hair
too short
thick
fog lifts
unfortunately, I am where
I thought I was
dead
roadside deer
a snowflake melts
on its open eye
mental
hospital
my shadow stays
outside
passport
check:
my shadow waits
across the border
the
man
with the split personality
shadow boxing
first
warm spring day
I take my shadow
for a walk
alone
at last
I wonder where
everyone is
old
tombstone
losing its name
faint first star
retirement
options
first ice
rims the campus pond
storm
lull
freshly crumpled paper
creaks twice
ebb
tide
the sand castle moat
still showing clouds
dusk
a lone car going the same way
as the river
The
beetle I righted
flies straight into
a cobweb
Fresh
snow at dawn
already the footsteps
of the neighbor's cat
becoming a photograph winter afternoon
A
sigh from her
then one from me—
two pages turn
Swinging
on the hanger
her white summer dress:
wind chimes
Night begins to gather between her breasts
Sunrise:
I forget my side
of the argument
Unhappy
wife
I pedal my bike
through puddles
On
the bus
the teenager pulls out a mirror
and adjusts her pout
Spring morning gravedigger whistling
stars crickets
In the town dump I find a still-beating heart
Street
violinist
fallen leaves
in the open case
One
button undone
in the clerk's blouse—I let her
steal my change
One by one to the floor all of her shadows
Leaving my loneliness inside her
At dawn remembering her bad grammar
Windless
summer day:
the gentle tug of the current
on the fishing pole
Summer
night:
in my eyes starlight
hundreds of years old
Long train
horizon sun flickers through
the empty cattle cars
Evening shadows
fill the autumn market—
the unsold duck quacks
Deep snow
following in my footsteps
winter twilight
The frozen breaths of the carolers disappearing among the stars
At the end of myself pencil tip
After the search for meaning bills in the mail
At the edge of the precipice I become logical
open
library window
spring breeze flutters the pages
of the abandoned book
predawn
peace
the baby and the phone asleep
in their cradles
after
the rainstorm
twice as many
children
dawn
bird songs
the black cat's twitching tail
tipped with dew
in
each eye
of the cat by the window
the singing robin
spring
flood
two wooden shoes float by
taking turns being first
training
bra
on the clothesline
half moon
empty
baseball field
a dandelion seed floats through
the strike zone
lake
without a ripple
I pocket the mooth
skipping stone
steady
rain
a turtle inside its shell
among the mossy stones
pre-storm calm
a water strider tiptoes
over the clouds
warm
breeze
the colt's erection nuzzles
a daisy
sailboat
race:
at the finish a small cloud
crosses first
for the fat green
frog
crouched on the log
time is flies
recalling
last night's party
this morning's mockingbird
crack
of the bat
the outfielder circles
under the full moon
Independence
Day
after all the fireworks, the stars
still there
rising
like birds
from the bottom of the canyon
the children's cries
city
park
the stone hero's dark side
hides a drug deal
long
after
the fireworks
a shooting star
dropping
stone after stone
into the lake I keep
reappearing
a
fat mosquito
on the window the dawn light
through my blood
in
the tidal pool
something hiding
under a cloud
growing
a body of ants fish head
behind
me
on the trail jagged holes
in the morning mist
from
the lovely white shell
in the tidal pool
a claw
over
the earth's edge
they all go the white clouds
and the one sailboat
wind
change
the tumbleweed now chases
the kitten
made
for each other
the fishing hole and
the full moon
stepping
on
sidewalk ants the boy
everyone bullies
storm
wind
spider clings to
its creation
score
tied
both team jerseys look the same
in the August twilight
seventeen
starlings on the telephone wire
sixteen
during
discussion
on the meaning of life the crunch
of a student's apple
country
graveyard
a dog burying
a bone
in
the town dump
I find a still
beating heart
as
the professor speaks
only his bald spot
is illuminated
first
light
the white moths on the screen
turning white
nobody
on the street
stray dog stops to bite
its wagging tail
medical
school
a cobweb in the pelvis
of the skeleton
sudden
frost
a clothesline shirt
is hugging itself
sleet
against the window
at last mother threads
the needle
bridge
at both ends
mist
ice-ringed
branches
the leg in the cast
starts to itch
frigid
morning
a sparrow goes from chimney
to chimney
coldest
day of the year
the lone skater laps
his breath
a
cold wind
dead child's horse
rocks by itself
in
the howling wind
under the full moon
the snowman, headless
panties
on the clotheline lingering mist
still
pond
expectant father
skips stones
back
in the house
the cat carefully shakes each leg
morning dew
I
awake from
an erotic dream
ebb tide
as
the rain ends
once more the drip
of the tap
a
hidden butterfly
rises from the leaves
on my father's grave
an
evening breeze
crosses the porch dog and I
both sigh
car
wash closed
a sparrow bathes in
the last puddle
a
black and white cat
belly down through the grass
everyone watching
dawn
in a strange bed
birds singing whose names
I have never learned
sudden
shower
from the river the laughter
of clothes-washing women
river
flood
a "For Sale" sign
on a cottage roof
the
son who
argues everything
I study his face
in a puddle
summer
storm
abandoned checkmate
in the park
in
the windswept window
among the wild trees
my face
second
honeymoon
I float in the pool
one of the clouds
foggy
day
the weather outside
sunny and clear
my
wife plays Strauss
on the piano waltzing
willow shadows
ocean
sunset
he whispers something
and her earrings glow
just
outside
the prison wall
a gopher mound
cool
forest lake
as I slip off my shorts the snort
of a bull moose
midday
heat
grasshopper on the shady side
of the blade
cold
dawn rain
I turn to touch
my wife
the
open mouths
of my two sons soundless
above the waves
as
I reach for
the lovely pink shell the water
bends my arm
Soon
a butterfly
from the cocoon I study
my marriage
the
hum of the fan
cigarette smoke streams
through our silence
hot
summer night
she takes off
her crucifix
the
dragonfly
zig-zags the pond a rainbow
in its wings
heat
wave
my two small sons
don't know it
marital
dispute
I patch cracks
in the cement
lightning
bug
our terrace talk turns to
how long its been
at
the fork
in the trail I piss
two streams
clear
creek water
flowing over smooth stones
how young she looks
putting
holes
in my argument
the woodpecker
fisherman
reeling in twilight
no
lovemaking for weeks
I throw stones at my reflection
in the pond
first
autumn leaves
my gold filling
gently throbs
knothole
in the fence
an evening sunbeam betrays
the spider's web
country
fair
our sleeping son clutches
a withered balloon
I
awake before
hitting the ground
the clock's dial glows
silent
treatment
in the dark, the tip of her "Craven A'
waxes and wanes
having
to guess
from the footsteps:
evening fog
autumn
clothesline
his and her pyjamas
frozen together
calmly
talking divorce
underfoot the crackle
of fallen leaves
as
I wait
for the phone to ring the beagle
worries a bone
among
the yellow roses
the yellow butterfly
grows still
Divorce
proceedings over
wet leaves stick
to my shoes
in
the first light
suds up to her elbows
treetops in mist
under
the dirty,
one-eyed hen a perfect
white egg
autumn
day
the empty pillow
glows white
windowless
office
a fly buzzes against
my glasses
autumn
evening
also nowhere to go
skittering leaf
streetwalker
with a black eye halo
around the moon
her
bed
my imagination left
no wrinkles
red
evening clouds
the nurse changes
my bandages
grandpa's
fiddle
silent on the mantel
a cricket creaks
through
a hole
in the fog billboard girl's
radiant face
full
of good ideas I weigh no more
in
the pawnshop window
a hooker studies
her reflection
again
down at the river
the son who doesn't know
what to do
snowdrifts
our twisted
sheets
she
ices
the birthday cake
snow on the mountain
still
on the bookshelf
the mother-in-law's finger line
through the dust
the
anger from work
in my son's birthday balloons
still
channel waters
the bow of the ferry plows
through the Milky Way
fishermen
scrape
boats in dry dock harbor ice
breaking up
the
blizzard over
bird chatter from inside
the evergreen
winter
morning her cold pyjamas
fierce
wind
street sweeper has
another coffee
the
sound of thaw
in the drain we both start
to speak first
the
neighbor's snowblower ...
I begin to remember
last night
ice-edged
pond
the divorcee's ring
of white skin
neighbor's
washing day
clothesline full
of icicles
the
family gathered
a tear of embalming fluid runs
from my brother's eye
my
hands just washed
yet I wash them again
after the news
in
the empty parking lot
a crow caws and caws
who knows why
dawn
remembering her
bad grammar
cheap
hotel room
the mirror's crack gives me
a smile
no
milk left
a white cloud
in my coffee
Buddha
gazing
in the museum's Eastern wing
three stout gentlemen
at
the end
of the philosophical discussion
chicken bones
in
one corner
of the mental patient's eye
I exist
last
night's bitterness
he adds twice the sugar
to his coffee
mental
hospital
a fly beating
on the window
old
aunt's
prolonged goodbye the twitter
of evening birds
on
the old snow shovel cherry blossoms
open
window
spring breeze stirs the dust
on her photo
in
the warm March sun an old hatred melting
empty
parking lot
lone cloud
in the lone puddle
a
field of wildflowers
I recall the courtship
not the marriage
reconciliation
thistles blooming
in
the backyard
mother recalls her first love
ripe apple scent
around
the eyes
of the old fisherman
permanent ripples
spring
breeze
my dead grandfather's rocker
creaks on the porch
earplugs
now my heart is
too loud
what
ebb tide left
in this tiny shell
still holds the sky
climbing
deeper
into the cave's silence
into myself
cleaning
lady arrives
a dandelion puff
in her hair
summer
dawn
an empty wheelchair at
the ocean's edge
half
into the open grave the aging mourner's shadow
abandoned
factory
rows of dandelions
in the parking lot
rootbound
path
years ago it showed
how nimble I was
craggy
cliffs by the river
the tour of old people stops
and gets a lecture
anchored
supertanker
its reflectionion
trembles
creek
cricket
creaking
the
caretaker
polishes the cannon until
it shows clouds
medieval
town
to the worn stone steps
I add my own
drought
graveyard grass
still green
on
the boardwalk
a blind man listens to the sea
finding its way back
a
crow caws and caws
my wife checks the lines
under her eyes
graveyarduskilldeer
in
the old elm's shade
the black cat opens one eye
sunspot on its tail
train
to a ghost town
the historian asks to sit
facing backwards
ebb
tide
the marina's old yarn spinner
snoring softly
lilac-scented
breeze
a floorboard creaks in
the old spinster's room
this
faded photo
from my childhood still worth
a thousand words
sweltering
twilight
a waft of cool air
from the graveyard
August
heat
the old orange cat sits up and licks
the sun from its tail
spider
spins its web
in the window
with a view
children's
day at the zoo
I find myself watching
the children
in
the hammock
the undertaker dozes arms crossed
on his chest
abandoned
ballpark
gopher mound covers
home plate
used
bookstore
a sunset beam lights a row
of forgotten authors
in
a corner
of my dark mood
a star emerges
for
sale
an old house with creaky stairs
and a cricket
town
dump
two magpies jabber
on an old brass bed
waiting
room empty
bits of leaves
under each chair
clothesline
the widow's black lace panties
covered with frost
abandoned
farmhouse
prairie sky in all
the windows
sunrise
the fisherman's shadow stretches
across the river
the
gull with one leg soaring
first
frost
only a dead fly
in the mailbox
abandoned
factory
a cloud rests on
the smokestack
half-dug
grave lunch hour
fallen
leaves
the hands that gather them
have liver spots
against
the tombstone
with the faded name
homeless man rests
on
display
in the museum ancient grains
of dust
hut
that houses
the fisherman's nets
full of cobwebs
snowfall
the graveside red roses
turning white
at
the height
of the argument the old couple
pour each other tea
dawn
the night watchman's long shadow
storm
over
the old scarecrow hunchbacked
with snow
falling
pine needles the tick of the clock
statues
in the square
the raised hand of the war hero
fills with snow
among
the souvenirs
on her dresser
my roses
grandfather's
deathbed
more and more snowflakes
cling to the window
under
each eye
of the graveyard Jesus
a small icicle
fresh
snow falling
the nurse changes
my bandages
as
the coffin lowers
several watches sound
the hour
my
stomach growls
the old tomcat opens
one yellow eye
their
gravestones
hers newer and taller
than his
the
aged mother cuts the corpse's fingernails
open
coffin
grandfather's smile wrinkles
show through the makeup
snow
over everything
mother hums as she brushes
her white hair
anniversary
the old widow wipes dust from
the bedside photo
each
haiku
another piece in
the endless jigsaw
After
a hard day
twilight--the roses are black
the violets are white
Closed
army base:
the parade ground with straight rows
of weeds
A
fresh bouquet
at the gravestone with the name
worn away
Icicles
gone.
a fly hidden all winter
dead on the sill.
Window-framed:
autumn rain, a morning glory
my face
After
the last set
the piano keys glow--
solo moon
Ant
haiku--
----my writing
---------grows smaller
On
the smudge
left by the window cleaner
sunset lingers
Prison
fence:
the razor wire glints
with first light
April
snowflake
on the bud that will open
into a white crocus
newlyweds' clothesline alternating underpants
Confessional
window:
the gray cloth screen black
where the mouths meet
Paper
pickup day:
the unfinished poem
sticks out
Airport
lounge:
a Muslim man prays toward
the emergency exit
Working
late
I meet my loneliness
in the long hallway
In
first full bloom
the apricot tree--joy
in me still
wilderness
canyon
my shout and its echo
quickly lost in time