Haiku 46

My window ticks once at a brushstroke from the rain wind keepsakes the rest

But how many friends can you have, if all you see fills all that you know?

Banana milk, drunk years ago, long-dead diner returns to my tongue

The night crests morning only my two stinky feet keep me company

Teakettle whistles, but it’s in another room along with my mind

How proud of my words! …still, the wall’s one missing brick knows more than I do

I asked him if he’d ever known someone famous… still kicking myself

Evening, spongy heat green and blue lights from that train through the bamboo grove

“inconsequential” won’t do for my epitaph too much stonecutting

In my own heart true I am a tiny poem blown across the walk

Crow, so excited to have found its lime-green fence– plus a parking sign!

“Excuse me, please” she whines tossing her perfectly good pork chops in the trash

From the universe, to the moon, shining its light on one tongueless boot

A hand of butter tossed in a pan, starts to melt from thumb and knuckles

The old man’s hands scarred, long ago pour the afternoon tea

“Will work for $5 an hour, or, spare any change?” The sign sits alone