"A mountain walk.."
haiku series
reading the poems
of Issa and Buson
I drift three-hundred years
Basho --
I too, disappear
from time to time
itchy nose
I feel the ghost of whiskers
-- Issa's cat
planted
in the back of my mind
Buson's chrysanthemum..
pretentiousness
I strip away the weeds
I call flowers
bottle rocket
whistles
at a star
wearing a black dress
covered in sequins
these poems
dandelions growing
where my mind can find them
hanging
from the minute hand
the ghost of 3am