Kukai 5 - Thanksgiving Break

Haiku Writing Roundtable, Fall 2004
Select 10-15 favorites & write a ¶ about one.

flying over St. Louis
blurred red and white
rush hour traffic crawls

plane safety speech
only the flight attendant
interested

before boarding
my shirt buttons beep
strip search

cutting the mist
the black blur
of the plane's propeller

red-haired pre-teen
calls the flight attendant
one too many times

in the darkness
the cities lit up
to the horizon

copying her recipes
in the kitchen . . .
mother cries

final keystrokes
of the final paper
. . . finally!

sultry eyes
staring into mine
winking at the mirror

kitchen-wandering
for a late-night snack . . .
screw the diet

realizing we need them
we retrieve the neck and giblets
from the trash

the day after Thanksgiving
waking up to
snow

Thanksgiving
with Dad and his girlfriend
turkey and egg rolls

driving through the hills
on a sunny Texas day
Car Sick!

laughing at a joke
funny to those
who speak Vietnamese!

the plane takes off
your hand turns white
from my grip

so excited to see you
when I call
you cancel our plans

too much tequila
we forgot
we broke up

she listens to his breathing
a flash of lightning . . .
his mouth is open

stepping out
of the shower
a new woman

putting on her scarf
and a rainbow smile
she faces the day

their son
home from the war
folded flag

time out
popping his shoulder
back into the socket

scent of pine
throughout the house—
hanging the first ornament

chill night
they cuddle together
while I shiver

my eyes water
words blur
on the page

the light filters
through the dust motes
onto his photo

new tattoo--
your heart
now on the outside

after Thanksgiving
no leftover turkey
thanks to the dog

in the rain
fingers going numb
to feed my addiction

November cold
cigarette smoke and my breath
one

his 23rd birthday
blowing out the candles
with one breath

first snow
going to bed
with cold feet

sleeping in
i miss my flight—
we laugh and kiss

swirling wind storm
listening
my stomach gurgles

thanksgiving day
we knead bread—
i watch his hands

cleaning thanksgiving dishes
no one had noticed
the climbing full moon

thanksgiving dinner:
i move my plate
to the kid's table

finally, a wine glass
i fill it up—
sparkling apple cider


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