Haiku

blackbird song
the old cat retches
on the threshold

the western light
dissolves into whiteness—
kittiwake cries

winter tapas
the waiter helps himself
to leftovers

larch leaves
swish the brown–blue river
the dale’s breadth

from the dark wood:
the sound of last week’s snow
sliding off pines

the white colonnade
washed by ocean light—
vinegar wind

cold rain
my son and I thank the driver
at the same time

the ramshackle sheds
of the hillside allotments . . .
crab apple blossom

the moon all but full I plump for the slow train

January night
the ambers of marmalade
held up to the light

A further selection of some of my haiku published in Presence is available here.