Haiku #506 – #509

506.

A single stray cheek hair;
Penetration was not sought,
Yet you’ve chosen to.

507.

Giant bathroom crane-fly,
Brittle exquisite thing, here
Because I caught you.

508.

Large dark clouds scurry,
Harbingers of change, through rains,
I’d return with you.

509.

All’s impermanent,
Even summer in this place,
Even sleet in June.

Morning Storms

The God of Vexation
When Neptune was courting
Scooped up the Atlantic
And bestowed it on Norfolk,
Long before you and I were born.
The quickening Wales survived,
and the red-heathered glens of Scotland,
albeit biparted. There is a new lagoon
Which stretches from Cumberland
To the kings of Northumberland
Who vandalise shops where they can.
In a hundred awful years or more
Sightseers and tourists
Walking the shoreline,
Buying mementos and keepsake-gifts,
Will laugh at preposterous legends
Of villages consumed by the water.
Today is all I claim to own,
A universe condensed.

A canvas harried by the gale
From the patio table’s circumference,
In that moment morphed
Into an airborne octopus
Or other tentacled fabulous beast;
Flew over the poet-advocate’s garden,
And beyond his neighbour’s fence.