Haiku Kukai 2—Memories

Global Haiku Tradition--Kukai 2, Spring 2004

(Select 6-8 favorite haiku, and write a ¶ of imagined response to 1 favorite
and write a haiku in return to another favorite.)


flannel nightgowns
we cut squares of toast
breakfast for the birds


sparkling dresses
five year-old girl
her first grownup party


down stuffed coat
brand new
with room to grow


long summer weekend
extened family
small lake


neighbors unite
children run and hide
water balloon fight


bright summer sun
tire swing
alone


sunny morning
laughter in the kitchen
coffee brewing


afternoon barbeque
on the back patio
plump burgers on sourdough


street light flickers
heated oven
ready for dinner


winter campfire
leaves crunching
eyes of the night


morning chill
un-zip my nest
lingering lake aroma


a light mist
cooling my face
my hand in the water


huddled on the porch
the three of us
drink in the rain


old country road
our first moment
hangs in the air


Caribbean surf
three friends share
a six pack of secrets


fireplace glowing
my dog and i
spoon for more warmth


treading on tiny mountains
frozen footprints
aren't my own 


dog’s eyes
filled with guilt
missing with guilt 


white Christmas . . .
a memory of
crashing waves


looking up
  open wide
a snowflake on my eyelash


icy beach
utterly alone
a smoldering fire


big gift
small package
past
present
future 


pink heart tissue paper
eyes connect
no words needed


red candy hearts
his smile
all I need 


hot summer day
deep end
learning to swim


grandpa's beach house
waking up early
to become part of the lake


long line
favorite water slide
fearless little sister


fields of gold
the brother and sister
play tag


starry night
the children
tell ghost stories


unsealing the envelope
musty letters
reveal mother's past 


spinning fast
between my fingers
a vase takes shape


the Holy Bible
her writing, so delicate
I met my grandma


funeral service
snowflakes fall
quietly


calm water
inflatable turtle
we drift


the water calms
a mirror
is that the future we see?


long road back
counting miles
by thinking of you 


talking trees
saying goodbye
until next July


your last words
your first words
all lies


hands on head
woman screaming
tornado coming 


late night on the L
a punk kid with piercings
cradling a newborn child


lane lines
incandescent fuel gage
burning eyes


sun shining
a baby giggles
hands free in the air 


rows of cookie dough
from one sheet
an empty space


Spanish olives
despised as a child—  
devoured                                         


grandfather's laugh
  horseradish sauce
  sliding down the drain


with great pride
I tie off my last stitch
finishing my first pillow


swishing legs
plop!
snow angels 


snow beating the windshield
cars in the ditch
lights of the city appear 


hairspray lingers
shared smile
my mother's pearls


best friends
long distance call
goodnight, Mom


brown shoe polish
perfect technique
I learned from my dad 


a baseball glove
too small for my hand
I remember my dad 


5 colored circles
above an ice chute
sled flies down


pressing the petal
I begin to sew
with my mother's guidance


wiggling all day
apple first bitten
tooth missing


two fingers
above dry carpet
zap each other 


steering wheel of ice
all systems fail
right on schedule


framed picture of us
shards of glass
in my fist 


red bumps
watching from afar
friends leaving for the dance


walk in the door 
amid the screams 
we lock eyes  


curtain up
drumstick twirls
my heart flutters


clammy palms
butterflies
blue eyes love me?


crying eyes
walking alone
soon to be crowned


middle age pastime
three wood
goose's head


open gym
halloween costume contest
helping the handicapped


body pillows
sisters talking
topic doesn't matter


a quiet night
the only sound
is the cracking fire


the window's sun rays
spotlight her
aged fabrics


graduation day
her aged sewing table
rainfall accompaniment 


ink stain
hidden with a blanket
. . . until summer


playfulness
smiles all around
making it safely to base


a quilt on the bed
telling stories
her absent mother


lightning crashes
aroma fills the room
as bread is baking


eyes over the counter
chicken gizzards
in a wet paper bag


steaks glisten
raw
on white paper 


still, humid air
grins on our faces
summer love


freshmen geography
still together
seven years later


lining up for school
little brother's first day
tears fall down his face


ocean faces
tinted soft blue
incandescent moonlight 


silence
staring at the sea
quiet thought


first date
a single rose
Valentines Day


hurried costume change
hearing the audience
clap from the wings


at the opera house
the soprano misses
the platform . . .
thump


breakfast table cleared
taking pleasure in
weekday morning game shows


new ballet shoes
small and clean
unlike theirs


mid summer morning
wet with dew
we pick the tomatoes


summer night
we sit and wait
for the train to pass 


fathers and sons
Sunday ritual
goose poop among leaves


seated on his knee
singing a song
in a foreign tongue


old fishing knife
grandpa used
to cut
cake


faltering ankles:
beneath the snow
shoes' icy remnants


first snow day
no boots or gloves
to play


bundled up
running noses
just five more minutes


away from home
a glance at
her mother's quilt 


quilt of color
warm underneath
with the dog at my feet 


small chair
Grandma and I
warm each other with love 

 


© 2004, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.