June 2017 – Seven Hundred Jisei

Haiku #190

190.

Something magical exists
In the spine of the stag.
In his antlers, upturned hearts.

187.

I feel the relief of the moment;
Existence chose you
Over non-existences undecided.

188.

On a turnpike, we are the equid

flare in the horse box.

Moving, but uncontrolled.

189.

Of necessity, the protectors of

Peace take numerous forms.
The destroyer of peace takes one.

186.

For now the fennel flowers,

The eternal flow

Of our ends is in focus.

185.

In loamy sea foam,
Your plastic cap catches
In distant seagull throats.

184.

The indescribable
Inevitability
Of pieces in chess.

181.

The past is always more innocent.
And so, what am I still innocent of?
Those horrors yet to come.

182.

Politics, here, does not work.
Its shape, the contour and flow
Of power dressed as people.

183.

Whose dreams am I within
If not mine. Who owns
My gait, a look, a thought.

Waterfalls from two eyes;
A suit and a tie.
Grief resides in life’s circuitry.

178.

Summer storms pass,
But in their wake
Are lakes of crimson bees.

179.

June’s lupins and foxgloves
Shape the brain of the bee
With their touch.