bottle rocket haiku

The following poems appeared in the journal bottle rockets.

 

orange on gold

the sun sets

on the sheriff’s star

 

 

i believe i’ll float awhile

before i settle . . . dust

 

 

autumn

the terrible weight

of even the lightest leaf

 

 

for a moment

i thought he wrote haiku—

my father’s address book

 

 

up and up away from the child’s hand     memory

 

 

a breeze passes . . .

the last light of day

lets you go

 

 

searching for matches as he speaks

twelve days sober

 

 

watermelon seeds

the shape of mother’s tears

THAT picnic

 

new winter coat

the meaning of life

in button holes

 

 

his name . . . not on the wall

a suicide after the war

 

 

bombed berlin

the chalk messages of people

searching for people

 

 

fall

we give the puppy

its name

 

 

lunch break on a slow day

the dogcatcher licks his fingers

 

 

spring rain

an hour passes

with nowhere to go

 

 

they split apart–

delicate things,

atoms & parents

 

 

truants

an education

on the edge of town

 

 

homeroom

i wonder what the absent boys

are doing

 

 

those early dates

when we kissed goodnight

until morning