Haiku (I)

The old fisherman

casting out his line,

holding his hat.

 

White linen bedclothes –

a little whiter, I think,

and they would be gone!

 

Winter afternoon –

the tea is pouring out

faster than the rain.

 

A carpenter ant

is toiling in the stable:

he, too, is my friend.

 

Lady Gray –

what a weathered cheek,

what a sorrowful mouth.

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Back to Top