Haiku
misty clearing
a doe steps through
what’s left of sound
after rain
lichen on the branch
more vivid than breath
dawn river
a ripple outlives
the heron
temple steps
between incense and dusk
a lizard waits
last wave—
a crab hesitates
in its borrowed shell
______________________________________
Tanka
just before snow
the hush between
two crows
how softly
the world prepares
in the dry creek
a leaf flutters
then stills
not everything
needs to arrive
among the ruins
a fig tree
roots through sandstone
my father’s stories
without a beginning
too tired to write
I watch moonlight drift
across my floor . . .
some poems come
only when I wait
summer wind
slips through
the rice stalks
what isn’t said
still moves
(Illustration courtesy Nalini Shetty)
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