Haiku Kukai 02

Global Haiku • Millikin University • Fall 2024

1

touchdown!
she 
did not see

2

late walk
the train sounds
a love-hate relationship

3

rose garden
of all the flowers
he picked me

4

cursor blinks
words . . .
in short supply

5

reflections . . .
old versions of me
come to the surface

6

hot concrete
birds whispering
about our food

7

misty morning
an endless walk
in haze

8

cool morning breeze
weight on my shoulders
backpack

9

favorite pair of shoes
haven't walked
in years

10

the results are in
I dial
mom

11

changing sky
we quicken our pace
to beat the sun home

12

crossed fingers
stronger than prayers
only in this home

13

hummingbirds speed by
pausing for salvia
Am I enough for you?

14

prairie grass grows taller
I have watched you
go with it

15

lunchtime message
a sandwich with no crust
love dad

16

from the ashes 
a fire bird rises
baby’s first laugh

17

door shuts behind
empty apartment
feels emptier

18

laughing with friends
i didn’t know
a year ago

19

8:11 a.m
school bus stops
not for me

20

emories 
start floating back
familiar paths

21

letting the air
out of a balloon
i hold your hand

22

he picks me up
car speakers
already play my favorite song

23

footsteps on the path
worn on only 
one side 

24

the morning dew
on her shoes
a new beginning

25

I turn the page
another chapter
the same font

26

in the distance
a siren
the unbothered flora

27

places to see
marked on the map
I need more push pins

28

loud arguments
broken fingernail
. . . it hurts

29

don’t know what to do
who am I
I hate brussel sprouts 

30

ant 
smushed 
guilty of existing 

31

no map 
I can’t remember 
my own name 

32

ants in colonies
students on campus
a place to call home

33

the universe spins
reaching for the bottle
nothing changes

34

morning coffee
playing license plate bingo
it’s a long drive

35

rows and rows
of spiky blades
pull up a strand of green

36

electric strums
the wail of a guitar
its cry is soothing

37

woke up late for class
I rush to get ready
wait—it’s Saturday

38

walking to the car
morning regret for
not wearing a jacket

39

bamboo whisk 
small tea bowl 
tastes like grass

40

spiders in kayaks 
leaf-covered boat 
grandpa’s old lake house

41

surprise mail from mom 
hoping for money 
instead, it’s shampoo 

42

 

43

 

44

a swarm of wasps
their home 
as much as it is mine

45

fake nails, fake plants 
look put together 
and people won’t know

46

through the vents
secrets pass
to unintended ears

47

birds of a feather
we speak the secret language
of our flock

48

ducks and geese 
fighting over bread
i’m on their territory

49

conversations
the raspberry bush
eavesdrops again

50

cold breeze
walking to the warmth
of church

51

summer song
lingering thoughts
what could have been

52

a new playground
where mine once was
rose petals

53

moonlight streetlamp 
a bat 
says my name 

54

Christmas eve
a locked building
to see grandpa

55

the sounds of summer
driven away
by a school bus

56

show over
I drag bits of me
off the stage

57

final number playing
standby quickchange
                        go

58

putting on makeup 
trying to fit in 
this isn’t me

59

$13 grilled cheese
the price 
for a meal with a view

60

step after step 
mind wanders further 
where to now

61

late night drive
car concert
no destination in mind

62

lunch with grandma
a slap on my wrist
as I reach for my wallet

63

shrimp tacos on my plate
not a worry in the world
in heaven

64

90 degree turn
intentionally
I cut through grass

65

bright and tidy yard
closed window shades
but inside . . .

66

inside jokes
the muscles in my face
sore


© 2024, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.