Blackberry Picking

I see grandmother's bonnet moving above the bramble. My mother tells me not to keep eating berries. My little pail fills so slowly.

mouth drips purple juice
clothes torn, skin bleeding, itching
spill berries again


(Published Contemporary Haibun: Volume 10)

fingernail moon
all that's left
of the argument

(Published Modern Haiku - Summer 2010)

eggs still warm
from the nest
spring planting

Published Mayfly, Summer, 2010

A Perfect Day

Some days are almost crystalline in the memory: they shine like diamonds in the blue perspective of the distant past,

winter wind
a broken branch lit
by gray-green lichens

New Year's day, 1981, was like that. I spent the day with my future wife, Joyce, wandering around the Eno River in the Piedmont of North Carolina. The weather was perfect for January in the South—clear with a pale, yellow sun and temperatures in the mid-50s. Chilly but pleasant.

We explored the oak and maple forests bordering the river, admiring its stark, wintry beauty, and happy with each others' middle-aged company. We pointed out birds' nests and the occasional larger, leafy squirrel's homes in the bare boughs. Always, the river was a strong background presence, winding through stone outcroppings and sandy shores.

winter evening
at home
with stars

(Published Contemporary Haiburn Online--July, 2010)

moonless night
glow worms help me
up the steps


Published Magnapoets (Summer, 2010)

camping alone
up all night
with the river

Published Spring, 2010 Modern Haiku

Geri's Ninetieth

Old age, I suppose. Funny, I don't feel old. I want you to push me again, way up high in the swing. Nothing has changed except my joints, and you, who don't really understand that youth goes on and on.

first spring flowers
the same old song
brilliant and stirring


Published June, 2009 Contemporary Haibun Online