Crossposted to The Clade

The bottle is the message
the river sends to the sea:


Since the leaves came out,
the tree’s shadow no longer
resembles a tree.


Sunrise catches
a rabbit in the tall grass,
the veins in its ears.


A second set of lines
in the palm I rested on:
more leaves in my future.


Bobbing in the wind,
the moccasin flower’s
red-threaded net.


Seventeen times sadder
than fallen cherry blossoms:
cicada wings.


Under the bark,
that locust log was wearing
white fishnet hose.


Tree-shaped print
in the sand where the tide went out —
its shining trunk.

15 Replies to “Ramifications”

    1. Thanks, Dale! I was unsure how many people would know what I mean by fishnet hose, and I realize metaphors like that kind of disqualify something from being a real haiku, but I couldn’t think of a better way to describe fungal mycelia.

    1. Thanks, Clive. Seeing that rabbit’s ears yesterday morning touched the whole sequence off. But yes, rabbits are one reason why I never got too serious about gardening here (though woodchucks and deer were always the bigger threats).

    1. Thanks. You’re doing better than me — by the time I came back with a camera, that rabbit was nowhere to be found. So I had to write a haiku instead.

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