Christmas Kukai

binging Christmas movies
Home Alone, The Santa Clause
even Harry Potter?

illuminated church
full pews      big grins
The First Noel

snow bells ring
I'm not listening
until finals are finished

father hangs the ornament
I can't reach
Christmas Eve

hands grasped around my waist
I place the star
atop the tree

12:00
her eyes flutter closed
thump thump thump

matching pajamas
nearly tripping over each other
on the way to the tree

christmas morning
crumpled wrapping paper
discarded on the floor

the ugly ornaments
we made in kindergarten
mom's favorites

unwrapping the care
package from home
Christmas in October

the children race downstairs
into the arms
of the tree

snow falls outside
a lonely angel
sits atop the tree

before the sun,
the excited whispers fill the house
Christmas

shiny red wrapping paper
and satin green ribbon
left under the pine

snow glistens
outside the frosty window
Christmas morning

choir concert
the director pauses, mouths
from the heart

the kids try their best
to fake patience
Christmas morning

helping mom decorate
the kitchen smells of sugar cookies
and eggnog

Christmas shopping
a mother yells at
the store employee

twinkling lights
shine on
the homemade ornaments

no presents under the tree
“ho ho ho”
comes from inside the chimney

middle of the night
I peak out the window
blanket of snow

home from school
Christmas tree
is already up

Mom's mashed potatoes
Grandma Libby's green beans
      must be Christmas dinner

family Christmas carols
snowflakes softly kiss
my rosy cheeks

12 foot Christmas tree
expertly wrapped presents
for our dog

standing under the mistletoe
my eyes meet with
my dog's

I open the door
to the wonderful smell
Grandma's cooking

kitten's first winter
freshly fallen snow
is undisturbed no more

snow falls slowly
carolers sing . . .
its the best time of the year

seasons change
the nights grow colder
father's homemade chili

snowball fight
struck by a fast one
on the back of my neck

Halloween looms
most stores are selling
Christmas decorations

an ornament shatters on the hardwood
holding my breath
until mom's forgiving smile

Fall Break Haiku

fall break
campus is empty
except for the athletes

broken cooler
time to play repairmen
quality time with my father

their song echos through the house 
my parents dancing
in the living room

can't help
but jump into
the pile of leaves

43 years of marriage
still acting like teenagers
my grandparents

thinking I can sleep in
coach schedules
early practice

roommates fooling around
in the tiny kitchen
hole in the wall

prickly beard
my pillow softly whispers
"shave please"

pouring rain
the chill disappears
in the coffee shop

waking up
to mom's gentle face
instead of an alarm clock

sisters whispering
telling stories
they can't tell their parents

warm feet
buried in the covers
of my own bed

annual ping pong tournament
dad never
lets me win

all six of us
gathered in the kitchen
the smell of bacon

flapper dress twirls
blue poodle skirt
thrift shopping

walking through campus
brisk autumn air
swinging my keys

back to the future
familiar faces
in my new hometown

quick conversation
trails along our twisted driveway
my dad chuckles

apples from August rotted
their only use now-
take a baseball bat to them

little flame
lights the whole night
through a jack-o-lantern

holding her breath
she counts
to ten

come home to an empty house
even though I'm on break
no one else is

winding country road
a paint-chipped truck
carries pumpkins

rain pouring
we sprint to the
locked church doors

bonfire night
marshmallow goodness
dripping down my hand

singing in the choir
I search for my mother
in the audience

red lights
in the morning fog
disappear

soft supple leather
new baseball glove
waiting to play catch with dad

children splash each other
in the puddles of rain-
red rubber boots

night in Chicago
the flash of the gun
lights up the skyline

under the moon
we wait for you
to come outside

warm kitchen
grandma stands over the stove
and offers me a taste

we discuss
our revenge
over a glass of wine

excited seven-year-old
slurps up the milk
left in the cereal bowl

crooked grin
he reaches
for the one ticklish spot

hole in my shoe
have to make them last
two more months

mom's tight embrace
I smile and
wash up for dinner

three remotes
two batteries
the old switcheroo