I went out to take photos this afternoon. These 3 haiku came to mind, in this order.


What’s left of the day
drops behind Bengullion
– this is not my home.


Stooping for shellfish
on the silver grey black beach,
shadow like a dog.

Scene in passing

Ambulance outside
the undertakers – it’s not
an emergency.

2 thoughts on “Haiku

  1. These are brilliant. I have a cynical ambulance haiku somewhere. Yours has a little more emotional ambiguity. Cynicism is the/my lens, not the deconstruction of your poem. I get a little snarky and defensive when I talk about or to death. (Poets talking to/or about death. “How original,” a grotesque little homunculus in my brain heckles from the peanut gallery.) The simple truths are easier for me in other arenas, such as sex and politics, where angels may blush to tread.

    • Thank you. They have to come from the heart, usually a form of words in response to something I see. Death is the great cliche for poets, I agree, and can be a little precious. I prefer to deal with it robustly.

      Don’t think there’s such an animal as a simple truth.

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