Paiku

Someone
Has eaten the crescent moon
Into a new leaf

 

Midday pinewood
Dark
With the quiet stench
Of rotting flesh

I pretend I'm a tree
As Hare edges past
Pretending to believe me

Black pond
Exhales
Midges

I think:
A waymark sign
Bee thinks:
Maybe a flower

 

Swifts slice
Holiday sky
Into one big hot blue

After a hard day
Plastic chair
Dozes under the apple tree

Beneath white froth
The hedgerow
Simmers

Old tree
Has done everything
Bar fall

 

While mice and weasels
Follow their own small roads
I question mine

Cornfield
Listens to me
With a pair of hare's ears

Dandelion clock
Says time
All gone

Behind the blossom
The usual
Thorns

 

Eyes closed
I walk as far as I dare:
Not far

I picked this tulip
Not knowing
It was somebody's home

Found in wineglass:
Red-tinted evening
Of sunsong and birdshine

Hat
Holds my head on
In the gale

 

I leave a coin
Atop a fencepost
To greet the moon

[written for Haiku Bandit's May 2009 Moon Viewing Party]

The pines roar
The clouds
Flee

Sheep kneels
To crop grass
Or worship it