H
A I K U S P
I R I T
Haiku
Spirit Issue #12
DECEMBER 1997
Winter drizzle ~
Even the monkey
Needs a raincoat
Basho (trans Lucien Stryk)
On my black robe
grey and listless
flies of atumn
Ken Jones
Tonight
that's how it is ~
the sound of a leaf
scraping along
Jim Norton
First leaves falling ~
a new school year
has started today
So heavy
to carry home
this year's first bag of coal
Gilles Fabre
Rain-drops on the web
all that remains in Autumn
the spider away
Dermot O'Brien
Reek of damp woodsmoke
I furl my umbrella ~
they're in!
hay bales
dumped across the golden stubble
lengthening shadows
Ken Jones
Behind the north
wall
frost lies all day
dogwoods redden
Jim Norton
late on Labor Day
a man mows grass
where he rents
LeRoy Gorman
Glendalough Haiku Retreat
September 1997
The cry of a deer
spanning mountain and valley
drifts of rain
Waiting as light fades
two sheep
settle to our presence
Reminded of Issa
this cold mountain hut
Clouded stars ~
and in deeper darkness
the swollen river
Water in the pipes
chatter in the kitchen
the old house comes to life
morning shave ~
more and more like my dad
grin at the mirror
Rushing water
fills the bowl
of earth and sky
Abandoned churches:
I want to put a roof on,
chant aloud again
Rusty nail through old mine timber
who was it
drove it home?
Every rill
finding its own way
to the lake
out of the forest
two deer
just as we look back
Ken Jones, Jim Norton, Helen Robinson, Paul Seto, Jenny Cairns, Philip
Keogh, Gilles Fabre and Sean
O'Connor took part in the retreat. These are some of their poems.
Endlessly washing
the water on the lake-shore
driven by the wind
A long way inland
a flock of gulls in a field
facing towards the sea
Dermot O'Brien
In the dark corner I cleared yesterday a white flower
Ernest J Berry
Scoving in West Cork with Ken Jones
Famine cabin
its apple tree
still blooming
Stones I've placed
to mark the only safe descent
the mist thickens
Suddenly
the lough
each islet
in its place
Between the Atlantic
and all that rock and bog
dozing by the fire
(In Cork dialect "to scove" is to wander about the land)
ELEGIES FOR JOAN
We live in the world as if in the sky
Just like a dream
a bubble ~ August waning moon
fills heart & sky
(25/08/97)
Spider on mothers
bedside table ~ I put him
out in the garden
(30/08/97)
Skylark ascending
as I scatter mothers ashes
around the roses
(3/09/97)
Robins autumn song ~
how can he know the sadness
that lays on my heart
(3/09/97)
Clouds piling up ~
feels like the end of summer
as I mow the lawns
(7/09/97)
Mother
transformed into a rose ~
our garden the hearts desire
Bill Wyatt's mother Joan Darling Hudson died suddenly on Monday 25
August.
She was aged 77 and very sprightly
The headstone
alive with flies
Sitting the long retreat
geese at dawn
geese at sundown
Ram lambs
pressed against the mountain gate
one more evening
Ken Jones
scattering your ashes ~
keeping back
some for the houseplants
Helen Robinson
Lengthening
the snail's shadow
draws out the sun
Few cars today:
between each
what was before
Jim Norton
willow leaves falling ~
never
where expected
this fire
is like other fires ~
but this winter's first
Gilles Fabre
Hot day
the soles of my
feet
on cold sand
Sean O'Connor