at times I glimpse her
from the corner of my eye
in the garden chair
she shows today
smiles at the blossom-rain
mild air everywhere
a soul-scent
spreads as a rose opens
and opens …
I look again and she’s gone
Category Archives: Poetry
A recent series of Haiku
a town is gone
hawthorn flowers
white in the sun
among rubble
the snapshot of a child
splashing in a wave
spring morning
a ginger cat leaps home
across frosted lawns
the robin arrives
sampling dry grass for its nest
sky is cut by a plane
sunlight in a puddle
birds dowse their wings
no other sound
emerald shoots
on brittle cement
patter of feet
plastic bags rattle
in wire and branch
blobs of colour
a wave is rolling
over the grid of streets
hush among crumbled walls
lichen dried silver
in the hot spring
a rain of blossoms
a golden leaf
in the shade
white plumes rise
under smooth ice
a shimmering carp
visible silence
Filed under Poetry
Course of Mirrors 