319

Hummingbird feeder

In a hibernating tree—

My bare hands are cold.

320

April showers wash

Away Japanese flowers—

Bonsai gardener.

321

How could I ever

Count the raindrops on windows—

Reflection of stars.

322

My foot plunges in

Puddles deep as trenches chilled

With the absent light.

 

323

A faceless chamber

Voting against the others

Fazed. The Eyes have it.

 

324

Avenue of trees

Forked by electrical lines—

Nature’s open hand.

 

325

A dead cat sitting

On the lab tables across

From me—disciplines.

 

326

The rainbow dips down

Deep into the valley after

The rains threatened floods.

 

327

I am outpaced by

The bike while sitting in my

Car idle on the street.

 

328

The familiar

Refreshed like dewed green petals

Upon the years’ rain.

 

329

Eating solitaire

At the buffet surrounded

By echoes present.

 

330

Some distant song blares

Over the speaker without

Regard to the air.

 

331

The mower watches

The summer sun cultivate

The evergrowing.

 

332

Dreams of the salty

Sea washing over your tides

Made under moonlight.

 

333

The dying fire

Melts away the meringue fit

For graham and chocolate.

 

334

Graduation like

The translucent hallway kept

In modern museum.

 

335

Whatever happened

To the summer’s hummingbird

The rest of the year?

 

336

The flowers caked in

Mulch and feed skirted by fake

Rocks—Demarcation.

336

The summer evening—

The lights between the fireflies’

Ephemeral darkness.

 

337

Can a falling rock

Stop the deluge of boulders

Which caused its own birth?

2 thoughts on “Haiku by Thomas Page (319-337)

  1. I always find Haiku to be the intricate, creative, and high form of poetry. I love reading these. These are simple yet powerful to understand. To express deeper meaning in short form is high form. Thank you for sharing.
    Best regards
    Sincerely

    Like

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