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Anita
Virgil's Haiku
http://www.netslova.ru/baru/virgil/
a
phoebe's cry...
the blue shadows
on the dinner plates
all
morning
the vegetable garden shaded
autumn
and
after such a year
the first crocus
in its usual place
at
the end
of the coal train's sound
winter dawn
Awakening...
the
cold fresh scent:
new snow.
behind sunglasses
I doze and wake...
the friendly man talks on
bitter cold
the distant train pulls
some of my night with it
Claiming
the
outhouse roof:
peacock!
Darkening
the cat's eyes:
a small chirp
Emerging hot
and rosy
from their skins -
beets!
holding you
in me still...
sparrow songs
low
tide:
all the people
stoop
morning
bath
clouds & birds float between
still wet limbs
mullein
with nothing around it
but the air
not
seeing
the room is white
until that red apple
no
sound to this
spring rain -
but the rock darken
on the hot lawn
only the mushroom's
shade
Quite afternoon:
water shadows
on the pine bark.
red
flipped out
chicken lung
in a cold white sink
rustling
beneath
the leaf cover, I pluck
the bean cool
she turns the
child
to brush her hair
with the wind
spring
breeze...
her breasts sway
over the porcelain tub
spring
twilight...
the hanging fern
turns
thru the hospital
gown
your shoulder
small as our child's
The
first hot night:
chilling the tea
slicing the lemons.
the
swan's head
turns away from sunset
to his dark side
the
dark
throbbing
with spring
peepers
trickling
over
the dam -
summer's end
twilight
taking
the
trees
walking
the snow-crust
not sinking
sinking
when
the guests leave
the old cat
purrs & purrs
...
bitterness
from an empty hearth
summer coolness
laughing
softly
under the trees
of the cemetery
the
quiet woods
last light staying
darkness
Anita Virgil, "A LONG YEAR" First Edition, 2002
this
summer
only birds
in the lawn chairs
July
heat...
in the pines two squirrels
sizzle at each other
clouding
the
corner of the house
a giant funnel web
soft
rain
through the great trees
soft birdsong
unerringly
the
toddler finds
the last patch of spring snow
rime
twinkling
in morning sunshine every rooftop
steams
at
the top of the bedroom curtain
the rising sun
moves down
sunshine...
the
frozen woods showering
ice-bits
in
misty rain
little birds dart in & out of the grey
waiting woods
fall
drizzle...
the house-spider backs further
into her corner
Anita Virgil, "ONE POTATO TWO POTATO ETC" First Edition, 1991
spring
snow
wrote a letter
it is gone
summer
again...
the wife is polishing
her toenails
New
Year's morning
the bird feeders full
of sunlight
morning
in the French Quarter
cafe au lait &
beignets with sparrows
the
old cat carries off
a little sunshine
on his back
3
beetles line up
under the screen door...
cold morning
in
dappled shade
the tied horse
scalding daffodils
a
piece of night wind
in the hollow
of us
the
coffin in
the bearers brush off
each other's shoulders
in
autumn rain
looking back at the smoke
from my chimney
spring
breeze...
the tree trunks sway & rub
whale songs
snowflakes
begin...
at the cellar window
the red geranium blooms
home
again:
turning on the tap a gush
of rusty water
rainy
Sunday -
cooped up the puppy gently gnaws
her hind foot
hot
afternoon...
only the slap slap
of a jump rope
hot
afternoon...
the dripping beaks
of slow swans
deep
in the hole
with the narcissus bulb go
snowflakes
frozen
grass...
steam from a turd rises
toward the morning stars
for
a while in evening rain
the soft sound
of arpeggios
"THE HAIKU ANTHOLOGY" Third Edition. Edited by Cor Van Den Heuvel, 1999
the
slow day...
in the empty motel corridor
a stack of dirty dishes
The
first hot night:
chilling the tea
slicing the lemons.
quiet
evening:
the long sound
of the freight train fades
I
sigh
and the cat on my lap
begins to purr
behind
sunglasses
I doze and wake...
The friendly man talks on
"HAIKU MOMENT" Edited by Bruce Ross, 1993
no
sound to this
spring rain -
but the rocks darken
deep
blue autumn sky;
from the cellar
a cricket sings
on
the lowest shelf
jars full of
autumn sunlight
this
spider web
so different I
leave it alone
Glittering
heat -
The finches argue & argue
The viburnum droops
almost
(down the path
in the pouring rain) alone
box turtle
following
me
deeper into my quilt
the wren's song
my
spade turns
the dark earth lets in
some sun