SUMMER HAIKU

around the abandoned
lighthouse—
fireflies

                 Atlantic Highlands, NJ

*

cabin in the woods
learning the stars
by candlelight

*

primal screamers gone
leaving the pines
to the bluejays

*

pine branch
scratching the cabin roof—
another poem

*

paper covered window
light shining through
old news

                Wanaque, NJ

*

bats at twilight
mosquito lovers
enemies of my enemies

*

in the neighbor’s yard
the fireflies
flashier

*

love affair
off and on
fireflies wink

*

counting fireflies
again
so few

*

in last year’s darkness
this year’s
fireflies

*

by the haiku pond
waiting for words
to go ping

*

Basho's frog
leaps off the page--
spring again!

*

Basho’s frog...
not enough left
to dissect

*

behind my back
the pansies
making faces

*

sparrow here, sparrow there
every temple
has its devotees

*

not knowing
which way to turn
sunflower in the fog
                                                Nikko

*

night life--
cricket
cricket
cricket

*

cricket starts
stops--
testing

*

old mosquito net—
no matter how many patches
the moon comes in

*

day moon--
it’s not enough
to be up all night

*

overnight delivery
snail messages
at my door

*

wild morning glories
choke the young pomegranate—
both flowering

*

on the beach  
the same messages
over and over

*

low tide
what’s left       
of the seashells

*

the fullness of the void  
in my cistern—
dry season

*

a few raindrops    
autobiography
in the dust

*

hot summer night
the stars
cold as ever

*
my only field guide
a neighbor’s dog
sniffing out summer

*


morning glories
open
open
open
over the locked gate

*

picnic by the sea
the rocks eaten away
by salt

*

restless surf
searching through
the seashells

*

tropical beach
after the storm
the coconuts also topless

*

free jazz concert
at intermission
the cicada

*
 
competing
with the neighbor’s saw
the cicada starts   stops

*            
at the crossroads
of milkweed and honeysuckle
choices, choices

*

red bird in the morning
cicada in the afternoon
no other calls

*

welcome for a change
dandelion
in the herb garden

*

old Zen master—
the pine branch
strikes the cabin roof

*

left behind
in the pines
I listen

*

over and over
the silence
between the pines

*

one more poem
about the pines—
strike a match!

*

distant mountain—
I toss a pebble
at the peak

*

sleepless--
me and my
mosquito

*

be patient...
your mosquito
will return

skipping stones
on the midnight pond
shaking up the moon

*

the lake
a stone’s throw away
makes rings around the stone

*

wrong road—
the roses
worth the detour

*

dry spell
one sparrow after another
chirping in its dustbath

*

dry creek--
still testing
the stepping stones

*

drought over—
the snail on my door back
after a long vacation

*

toward sundown
the garden snails
drag their shadows

*

garden strawberries
so shy
so red

*

woods for miles
woodpecker taps
at the utility pole

*
summer heat—
daylilies
have seen their day

*

summer pond--
one frog
makes a difference

*

day moon--
the child in the swing
says push higher

*

night rain
the crunch of snails
underfoot

*

the grass
around the birdbath
so much greener

*

dandelion storm—
too many wishes
blown away

*

lightning storm
everything unplugged—
I’m unreachable

*

power outage—
spilling milk
in the moonlight

*

near the exercise pool
one anole lizard
doing push ups

*

still holding its ground
the anole
blinks

*

driving under the influence
of the moon
I arrest myself

*

welcoming me home
from surgery
bloody mosquito on duty

*

open house--
one bee leaves
another enters

*

garden at sundown—
avoiding a mosquito,
stung by a bee

*

at the YIELD sign
I break
for thunder

*

crowded with tattoos
the man
on an empty beach

*

bending for the weed
he decides
it’s a flower

*

waiting
for the mosquito to return
the gecko and I

*

House guest

cricket in the bedroom--
a one way
conversation

somewhere in the kitchen
a cricket
until I hit another nail

okay cricket
off my exercise mat!

clapping hands for silence
the cricket obeys...
at first


*

garden poet
raking over
his own lines

*

under the mosquito net
a spider
sets up shop

*

dandelion
one wish
so many seeds

*

dandelion winds—
who needs
my breath

*

at the bus stop
back to New York
every dandelion plucked

*

making a wish
dandelion fluff
stick to her lips

*

dandelion
fenced in
fenced out

*

obsessive surf
writing and rewriting
the water lines


*

ocean so big
I choose
the smallest shells

*

high tide
so many seas
on the move

*

at a fork in the road
two butterflies
turning back


*

short cuts
growing longer
every year

*

nightclub by the beach
full moon
disturbing the peace

*

considerate cat
leaving the lizard’s head
for the ants

*

seeking directions
the milkweed
at the crossroads

*

on the trail
waiting for a monarch
to catch up

*

eyestrain—
stepping out
to seek the Pleiades

*

tidal pools
checking the depths
of the shallows

*

evidence of rain--
concrete bird bath
already half empty

*

Arashiyama

Arashiyama
the lantern lit boats
fade into their glow

ring around its neck
a cormorant silently
yields its fish

Arashiyama
the wind through the leaves
arashiyama

*

before the guests
bougainvillea blossoms
run right in

*

no vacancy
the moon over
in the next motel


*

midtown fruit vendor
hands over cherries
before I ask

*

slow afternoon
only dragonflies
in a hurry

*

thunder
even the bluejays
quiet

*

thunderclap
the neighbor’s boy
stops crying

*

near Men-at-Work                                 
cicada drilling
overtime

*

overwhelming
the evening news
prime time cicada

*


summer night
how many fireflies
are enough

*

the sailboat’s laundry
waves
to the waves

*

graveyard service
the unflappable priest
pauses for butterflies

*

cheering on the silence one cricket

*

conversation getting harder the steep hill

*

hummingbird sitting on a branch I rush by

*

the heat!
Hokusai’s wave
in a bookstore window

*

the sounds of a crow
and a frog—
all in one day!

*

here comes the turtle
here comes the turtle
here comes the turtle

*

eyes in the woods
watching
eyes in the woods

*

green on green
the iguana
disappears

*

nightfall on the beach
giving up on shells
I search for the first star

*

long drought
the rock garden                      
doing fine

*

unable to leave
the pebbles in peace
the rock gardener

*

glitter
of snail tracks
stops me in mine

*

first morning
in the summer mountains
all hills nameless

*

back to the sea––sea glass still edgy

*

on the beach
for a breath of fresh air
she lights up

*

hermit crabs
head in my direction
I move sideways

*

firefly
too weak to fly
still glows

*

no mirror
to reflect their flight--
dragonfly drought


*

the rain so loud                
I can’t hear you say
what did you say

*

hurricane warning
and the pomegranates
not yet ripe

*

Cats

each one in his place
the cat and I
meditators

long drought––
sparrows
at the cat's water bowl

only room for one cat
suddenly
there are three

*

the bluejay scolds
and I haven’t yet
touched the mulberries

*

stalking
its own reflection
the heron

*

noonday sun
forcing me
off the porch

*

calendar
without moon phases
forcing me outside

*

at the plant nursery
dandelions
still free

*

no birthday candles please--
saving my breath
for dandelions

*

waiting for a hitch--
seagulls riding
the wind

*

unpaved path
the butterfly’s
choice

*

child
sticking her tongue out
at the iris

*

summer afternoon
my poems
put me to sleep

*

half dozing
in the pines
until the bluejay

*

no bird's nest here--bonsai pine

*

doomed pond in the pines
who will write
your obit

*

side stepping
a crab--
snagged by a cactus

*

August moon
rises
full of itself

*

last night
front door left open
only the moon got in

*

once again
fresh footprints
swallow the tide

*

garden bench
without her
no picnic

*

waiting at the dock
for someone else’s boat
to come in

*

“insufficient funds”
I add another seashell
to my jar

*

seashell
not sure if
anybody’s home

*

summer night
crickets getting louder
haiku here  haiku there

*

too many blooms
to choose from
the butterflies move on


*

bumbling bumble bee   
all noise
no honey

*

mosquitoes at night––
wife’s blood
on my hands

*

four A.M.
all around the mosquito net
mosquitoes wide awake

*

zen
zen
zen
there goes the dragonfly

*

the fish
I haven’t caught yet
nibbling at my fingertips

*

doves calling
one too early
one too late

*

coming back
to the islands
unfinished sunsets

*

sunset
over the ocean--
teapot nearly boils dry

*

collecting seashells
too small
to listen to

*

found on the beach
the same seashell
over and over

*

fireworks' finale--
smoke lingering
beneath the Milky Way

*
tidal pool...
the depth
of the moon

*

once again
fresh footprints
swallow the tide

*

password—
what’s my password?   
the parrot knows

*

getting older
still attractive
to mosquitoes

*

cat’s fixed gaze
I follow it—
low flying heron!

*

tiger lilies
near the bus stop
should I or shouldn’t I

*

lily pads—
stepping stones
for frogs

Sequence
            for Bill

sunset after rain
one dragonfly
still shining

midnight’s rolling blackout
the crash
of one wave after another

getting old
the Milky Way’s
radio silence

after the storm
waves
folding foam

                      St Thomas, VI, 2008

*

alone
with the moon
the silent circle grows

*

old sketch pad--
termite trails
through the scenery

*

fever rising and falling--
from my bed
I hear the surf

*

teahouse pond
water the color
of dark tea

reading
the tea leaves
I see only tea leaves

                          ShanghaI

*
after Basho

old pond...
drinking the water
a leap of faith

old pond...
new artist
dipping a brush

*

response to Issa
and his "first firefly"

the last firefly
got away
and I'm glad

*

supper's on!
still I linger
feasting on fireflies

*
thousands of miles
from Tokyo
still hearing the crows

*

grasshopper clings
to my flannel shirt
Autumn chill

*

no need
to stretch out your hand
the rain comes to you

*

9/11

eyes closed
the twin towers
burn again

lower
on lower Manhattan
the sky

*

cliffside road—
cleaning the windshield
to see the fog


*

fog closing in—only one teabag left

*

killing the last candle
finding the dark
in the dark

*

rough surf
the seashell's
inaudible

*

hand signals
the storm too loud
for words

*

old straw hat
turning green--
rainy season

*

heavy rain
we repeat what we say
we say

*

after the rainstorm
midtown awash
with broken umbrellas

*

in a sale basket
of damaged fruit
the good apple

*

at the state line
leaves drifting
from state to state

*

black wall
countless names
the death of a nation

rubbing away
at a name
to preserve it

                Washington DC
          
*

eyes wide open
the cat catches me
napping

*

toxic cloud
the sunset
goes wild

*

twilight beach
she doesn't bend anymoe
for seashells

*

the moon too full
for comfort--
clouds!

*

no insight—
the mist
starts at the door

*

misty day--
half the mountain's
missing!

*

Autumn walk
hitchhiking seeds
souvenirs

*

Autumn wind—
joggers one step ahead
of a dust devil

*

gathering rain clouds--
a lady stands at the door
with a mop

*

one way traffic
inching along—
full moon on the rise

*

witch's pointed hat
in the attic--
the girl long flown

*
in the distant hills
the fog
so clear

*

in front
of the poor man's house
four overflowing rain buckets

*

crushed underfoot
the snail
on the welcome mat

*

shake shake shake
impossible salt
so near the sea

*

alone with a pumpkin
face
to faceless

*

apple tree gone
cottage gone—
apples still fall on the roof

*

after Basho’s precepts

learning of the vine
from the vines
I track a weed hidden gourd

*

telling little
telling all
autumn cricket

*

nothing left
to take in…
except the harvest moon

*

Hunter's moon--
what is it
I'm looking for
                          

*

raising the window
to let the cat out—
Hunter’s moon

*

from pine to pine
not only the moon
searching

*

first stars
how quickly
the evening ages

*

stepped on
more than once
the full moon

*

Berkeley fog

new in town
the morning fog
so old             

at the screen door
I pause to take in
the fog

thick fog
a car honks down the street
in a one way conversation

then and now
thirty years later
the talk turns to fog

Golden Gate
a solid bridge
of fog

fog beyond
the screen door…
waiting for a snail to pass
          
*

Caribbean Sequence

four AM
all around the mosquito net
mosquitoes wide awake

daybreak thunder
wild morning glories
curled up tight

waking up to mourning doves
my own song
vanishes

traffic gridlock
in the hills
the mists also crawl

on the barbed wire fence
morning glories hold on
to the barbs

new church on island—
in the old Bible
silver fish

silent funeral
surf a stone’s throw away…
white noise

the dead fisherman
his traps
still full of life

*

rainy season—
the machete too
grows dull

*

after night-long rain
the tall grass, too,
late rising

*

rainy season--
the short cut
needs to be cut short again

*

every crack
in the road
a budding nursery

*

rolling blackout—
the crash of one wave after another
in the dark

*

roof peels off--
no time for
an epitaph

*

looking for a black umbrella
in a crowd of
black umbrellas

                                          Nikko

*

a black umbrella
the only spot of color
in the mist

*

after the hurricane—
sweeping the Milky Way
with a flashlight

*

daylight fading too soon
the first candle
a mixed blessing

*

nobody's birthday...
we celebrate the darkness
every night!

*

candles candles
every night the dinner table
turns into an altar

*

roof back on
I can enjoy the rain
once more

*

roof repaired
I stretch out and stare
at the ceiling

*

hurricane
changes course
sex tonight

*

another hurricane
how many autumns
do I have left?

*
autumn
no need to pretend
my hair dyes itself white

*

ground fog
grounds
the mourning dove

*

foggy morning--
spider following
its own thread

*

after saying goodbye
the fog
closes in

*

rainy night--
every frog
announces the obvious

*

rainy season--
the narrow path
growing narrower

*

rainy season mosquitoes

dancing on both sides
on the window screen

*

full moon--
barking interrupted
by a rooster

*

autumn moon
I harvest moths
beneath the lamp

*

game’s over
bald dandelions
dot the field

*

all wished out
the bare stalk
of the dandelion

*

looking for something
no longer there…
Autumn wind

*

chasing after
the leaves I chased
Autumn wind

*

the diary
I didn’t keep
the leaves underfoot

*

indoors
getting lost
in a star map

*

a break in the rains
the door only opens
with a kick

*

putting up wind chimes
taking them down
hurricane warning

*

waiting for what
for wind
nothing but wind

*

twilight
no shadow to speak of 
and I speak of it
*

late autumn
a child asks
how deep is the pond

*

poison mushrooms
after the rains
short lived

*

rusty exercycle
long gone
& I hadn't noticed

*

fog blog                                 
finger writing
on the windshield

*

digital camera 
downloading
99 sunsets


*

seeking
the night blooming cereus—
hunter’s moon

*

pine needles
resting on pine needles
restless rain

*

lost garden scissors––
a conspiracy
of leaves

*

crow  crow  crow
the echo in ink
grows darker

*

gridlock
I envy the crow
as the crow flies

*

November
the pumpkin in need
of a makeover

*

autumn woods--
giving it
a ten

*

another outage
too many lamps
to choose from


*

over the lake
the rising mist
still rises

*

a few dark leaves
on white gravel—
gardener, forget the rake!

*

still illuminating…
the stone dead
moon

Xmas winds—
wind chimes
working overtime

tourists
trying not to be
what they are

               St. Thomas, VI

*

just getting to know
the summer stars
it’s winter

*

overcast
not even the shadow
of a crow

*

go little bird—
snow about
to fly

*

shaken
by the bird’s departure
the bare branch

*

koi pond
first snow
feeding the water

*

deep night still only one inch of snow

*

shortest day
and I sleep away
the afternoon!

*

carolers
chased off by rain
tree frogs carry on

Xmas blooms--
love vines gift wrapping
the untended garden

*

snail only half way
up the fence
and tomorrow's New Year's

*

tropical New Year
still fighting
last year’s mosquitoes

*

the year draws to a close--
on the concrete path
a snail draws...

                         
*

horns blasting
in the harbor--
fog or New Year's?

*

New Year’s horns
from the harbor
how short the haiku year

*

New Year’s—
shredding the last month
into snowflakes

*

wrong number
Happy New Year
to you too!

*

first snow in years--
tempted
to make the first footprints

*

looking back
the brook in the snow
the snow in the brook

*

heavy snow
growing whiter
white on white

*

snow
upon snow—
the rock garden grows

*

piles of snow
still parked under
the NO PARKING sign

*

haiku window
so frosty
I write on it

*

freezing pond—
even snowflakes
hesitate over the ice

*

a bare branch
reaches out for a bird
any bird

*

in the silence
between the pines
a bluejay’s feather

*

frog pond—
snowflakes swallowed
without a sound

*

recession—
snow tires
spinning deeper

*

driven snow
rushes by
the stoplight

*

alternate side parking
snow
drifts to one side

*

frozen bird bath
a sparrow
tests the ice

*

deep winter
the small pines hiding
in the pines

*

cabin fever
throwing old get well cards
into the fireplace

*

New Year’s--
going after cobwebs
I change brooms

*

Dark Chanukah: a sequence
                                            

Menorah
once a birthday
the last wick burns on

Menorah
once a birthday
now a Yarzheit

Menorah
one wisp of smoke
joins another...

Menorah
the brightest candle
struggles in a pool of wax

Menorah
black wicks fast frozen
in red wax  blue wax  green

Menorah
the last flame
fighting for its life

Menorah
the child returns
so distant so close

*

uphill at nightfall
a breathless
stop for Venus

*

chest pains
time to write
another valentine

*

Valentine’s Day
tube of red acrylic
runs dry

*

Chanukah’s last wisp
of smoke
the family smaller

*

snowballed the snowman loses face

*

after the blizzard
the snow holding the fence
the fence holding the snow

*

winter solstice
I wake up twice
before the roosters

                              St. Thomas, VI

*

last day of the year
in a rush to write
one more poem

*

new year—
the cold
getting colder

*

heavy snowfall—
the white birch
growing whiter

*

once again
the moon lets go
of the tallest pines

*

last year's
sleepless night
this year's haiku

*

first day
of the year
the cat sleeping it off

*

writing a New Year’s poem all year long








surviving
winter’s woodpile
spring mushroom

*

cardinal
calling to cardinal
the expectant pause

*

April puddles--
tadpoles hide from
my shadow

*

between showers
one leaf outshines
the others

*

breaking bread—
me and the sparrow
two masters of crumbs

*

speedy ferry
there goes another
straw hat


*

sizing up the electric pole
the woodpecker
goes to work


*

Spring checkup
after everything
nothing

*

extended forecast:
after the rain, birds
after the birds, rain

*

here a crow
there a crow
idle talk

*

bumblebee
on its rounds
the mailman steps aside

*

ready for snails
the new garden
a clean slate

*

concrete path—
the snail writes
only on the move


*

spring fever—
the first dandelions
lose their heads

*

after all the colors
in the gallery—
sky so blue

*

nesting season--
abandoned twigs
in nearly every window

*

a perfect web
only the spider's
missing

*

May mourning doves
so loud--
high cooing

*

migrating again
laughing gulls
from last year's haiku

*

full moon
over the Virgins
harassing everyone

*

power line--
looking up at the hawk
looking down

*

CLOSING TIME

closing time
announce the guards
eager to escape the garden

hurry hurry
the guard rushes
to lock up the flowers

at the sundial
a young man
consults his watch

closing time
two more minutes
to take in the spring

just a minute!
closing time
closing in


*

after Basho

old pond
new poets
fishing for words

*

the wisteria twists
the lilac bends
I know my blues

*

Sequence

migrating geese
her voice
weaker and weaker
        
for days
the only wristwatch
her pulse

the silence
of her wedding ring
still golden

before and after the funeral
I’m not here
not there

at a loss for stones
the rockhound
in the cemetery

*

for Herb and Sarah

not held together
by any nails
the house, the family

another Passover
the pine needles
grow sharper


*

after the Passover meal
the Christian guest
asks more than four questions

*

Passover moon...
alone again
full circle

*

tilting toward Spring
the last
scarecrow

*

leaving the hospital
I make sure to walk
on the grass


*

counting seagulls
for the sake
of counting

*

free lunch
sparrows fight
over spilled popcorn


*

mourning dove
repeating its call…
too late for an answer

*

though I whisper stay still
the hummingbird’s
a hummingbird

*

water on the moon--
suddenly
I feel better
                             
*

how often her wind chimes
talk to me...
the lovely neighbor hardly ever

*

no hello  no goodbye
only the wind
in the wind chimes

*

lone buttercup clings
to the edge of mother’s
fresh dug grave
                               May 1977

*

stepping on cherry blossoms…
the lost years
in her footsteps

*

Spring!
no more blossoms please
they too can be a burden

*

last week's
cherry blossoms
this week's mulch

*

everywhere in Prospect Park
the Buddhist injunction:
STAY ON PATH

*

island mists
another name disappears
from my tongue

*

the moon again
minus a friend
the circle of silence grows

*

Wedding

rose petals
wilting on the beach
only evidence

witness—
a ghost crab
sinks into the sand

building a sand castle—
newlyweds
second time around

                           St. Thomas, VI

*

vacant seats
in the library
Spring fever

*

morning gust
a bird’s downy feather
takes off

*

mother’s day
three women
talking chocolate

*

memorial service
minute of silence
the bluejay screeching

*

March 11, 2011

the big wave breaks
and breaks again
Fukushima


Geiger counters   
adding up
the invisible

       
not kabuki
not noh
white masks everywhere


forever––
five minutes
forever...

*

Buddha of Kamakura

in the lap
of the great Buddha––
quarreling sparrows

before the great hollow
Buddha of Kamakura
my stomach growls

tourists rushing by
Buddha's feet
rubbed smooth


*

mad at co-worker
I don’t tell her about the
first cherry blossoms

*

unemployed in spring--
impossible
to call in sick

*

spring training
throwing old pine cones
back into the pines

*

out of surgery
scent of grass
fresh cut

*

the hospital sign
says keep off the grass  
I sink into the green

*

finally
the cherry blossoms
not the only late bloomer

*

a perfect web       
only the spider
is missing

*

the roof is leaking
is it Spring
again?


Spring—
tattoos come out
of hiding 

*

May Day!
May Day!
where did April go?


*

Buson or Basho?
who cares
it’s Spring!