haiku
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summit cairn a raven's call lost to the wind
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pathless moor the cackle of grouse hidden by mist
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New Year's Day a deer hesitates in the headlights
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dentist's chair counting dead flies in the striplights
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the morning after oak leaves cradle last night's hail
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hung in a cobweb between gorse flowers christmas rain
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perseid showers only rain in the night garden
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summer longing a dampness in the washing left out overnight
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night after night the farm dog forgets he knows me of old
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last day of term my daughter breaks the uniform code
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spring wind tachograph discs turn down a backroad
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steam railway blackthorn blossom follows the tracks
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all fool's day behaving like a teenager again
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day after day on the road to work a single magpie
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spring sunshine the jogger's stride a little longer
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my daughter says i resemble a drunk winter rain
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St David's Day a mower cuts the green green grass of home
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efficiency seminar a reek of cheap fat lingers in the hall
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referendum day a few pale shoots after the frost
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roadside tribute last year's leaves cover a fox
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commuter traffic no light to stop a starling flock
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february gale the empty bird feeder taps my office window
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i arrange my tie to hide a stain misty hollow
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supermarket sign the melancholia magnified by drizzle
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february dawn the rhubarb rises a deeper red
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afternoon fog the point of the meeting getting lost
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a red cloud on the horizon robin's song
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valentine's day a patch of snow the sun hasn't found
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we race dry leaves down the road home the north wind and me
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her plastic lifelines in harsh hospital light - "even fresh flowers
fade"
a dog stares his cataract eyes the colour of moons
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five star hotel - a cockroach scurries pool-side
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his old hands working the soil - smell of brewed tea
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church ruins the grace of a butterfly
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pleasantly drunk in the orchard a flock of waxwings
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Memorial Day a layer of dust covers his urn
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six years presents under the tree still wrapped
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hawk's hover - the view of calm seas through a gunport
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at the memorial a hawk's cry scatters her ashes
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forty-six years writing my name yellow in snow
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more than the shining sun in the morning I want her
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nothing more tiring than being tired of sleeping alone warm coffee
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crushed mosquito red line on the floor subway in may
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spring wind on my neck cooler than your breath
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parting . . . the clatter of train tracks into dark
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fading bougainvillea in the night sky . . . mars!
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splatting drops . . . moments ago they held a rainbow
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after the long wait . . . two unattended dove eggs in summer rain
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"from the armoire " scent of passion in a candle
yet to be burned
wood flute music through an open window the crow's rasp
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mothers' day I let the phone ring longer for her
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scenting two pages of the Webster's Unabridged . . . wild lilac
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Valentine's dinner-- nothing on the menu suits him
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stroke of . . . his snoring punctuated by fireworks
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stillness . . . a few flat stones beneath the pine
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lunch at the cove the ebb and flow of their conversation
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distant thoughts- the last ember cools
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computer drone overtaken by the sound of pounding rain
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heat storm-- a quick breath between flash and crashing thunder
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in the mirror a much older woman returns my glance
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April shower - last drop of green tea
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Morning fog - only the scent of eucalyptus
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morning rush cup of tea untouched
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summer solstice I saw a rouge flower growing.
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soft rain a quiet ambulance at rush hour
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community garden a fence separates carrots from carrots
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oolong pekoe tasting each sound
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sudden rain and then I remember Earth Day
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sliding a white marble into its matchbox voodoo moon
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almost spring the florist waters her sidewalk
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evening calm pot smoke wafts up from under the bridge
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honeymoon cutting in half their first melon
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window cleaner the masks we wear at the office
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winter blizzard .. her psoriasis shedding skin
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"beyond darkened fields " g ro w i n g with bird-song
- this tide-line of dawn
pilgrim counts every second step stone in shoe
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trinitarian glasses help both speaker and listeners to see more clearly
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approaching rain the smell of sauerkraut lingers on the stairs
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a slight turbulence as the cormorant dives autumn's end
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no longer friends the aftertaste of imported ale
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river eddies the day you asked me out
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evening cold a shell at the end of a snail trail
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migrating cranes the people we speak of in the past tense
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winter thunder i let tea leaves release the tannins
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the odds of his dying before me... snow mixes with rain
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living alone the quiet ritual of coffee
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heat lightning something ancient in a lizard's eye
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scudding clouds a magpie's calls drift into my headache
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dead sparrow the smell of rain from somewhere else
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evening news two crows on the rim of a satellite dish
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his burn-scarred hands... how the winter wind makes dead leaves fly
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approaching winter sunlight on the leather of a pipistrelle's wings
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unpicked apples we promise to keep in touch
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indian summer two rows of maize left standing
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flickering street light from darkness to darkness the flight of a bat
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a love letter in mother's handwriting... asters gone to seed
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first notes of a busker's clarinet... summer river
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dusty seashell the words he whispered in my ear
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no sound from a crow's gaping beak... sultry afternoon
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sultry afternoon wood pigeons cooing from the shade
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