Haiku Roundtable • Fall 2010
Dr. Randy Brooks

in the dark

by
Kylie Cochran

My haiku come from me. They are little, pure pieces of who I am, what I've done, what I think, and what I see. That's why my collection is handwritten; I wanted to be as close to them (to myself) for this as I could. As for why it's simple and undecorated, that's how haiku are to me. And they have to speak for themselves, or not speak at all.

in the dark
he whispers for hours
after I've left

Medussa
hissing, slithering
bedhead

back of the city bus
I'm the only one
for the wasp to sting

Sunday morning service
the gossips gather
at the sanctuary door

grocery store
a young mother with two hands
and three kids

we get lost
in cornstalks
taller than my dad

innocently,
   an old friend
      asks about my mother

a checked box—
our break-up now
Facebook official

after the doctor visit
she gives her favorite ring
to me

my new country home
more stars
than wishes

the first night
nobody asks
where mommy is

finally bestowed a knife—
my jack-o-lantern's
pink-stained mouth