HAIKU

at dawn a thick mist
where the ocean used to be--
cry of unseen gull

gentle the spring breeze
and floating curtain--angry
the flapping pages

screeching, rocking train--
bullets of sunlight taunt the
tired linoleum

first mild day of spring--
car alarm makes red circles
of sound at sunset

backs turned, gulls worship
a stingy sun--the only
winter god they have

below ground, gray lit,
the yellow-edged train platform--
rawness of March wind

with impunity
the short-lived fruit fly savors
apple of desire

pigeons on my beach?
I see commonness, not
commonality

dark gray March ocean,
this wave, now this one, now this--
more waves to come than breaths

whisper of feather,
flash of wing--I envy
senseless animation

solitary gull,
belligerent glare my welcome--
do you own this beach?

obligatory
the cat's posture at window--
illusory desire

perfectly assured
of appointed destiny--
raindrop on my nose

next to the footpath
safe in liberal Harvard Yard--
the friendly squirrels

white feathers molting,
your death profaning my beach--
where should a gull die?

contesting heaven:
this tintinnabulation
on Sunday morning

dawn comes gray and still:
in these woods petrified leaves
await permission

Copyright © 2002 The President and Fellows of Harvard College.
All rights reserved. Comments. Last modified Wed, Dec 18, 2002.