haibun

Woodpecker: a haibun/tanka

Sitting on the deck, enjoying the breeze, coffee in one hand and my pipe in the other; what a wonderful way to start the day. Listening to the gentle, sweet sounds of creation: leaves rustling, birds singing, and a squirrel chattering away. The serene scene suddenly interrupted by an awful metallic rapping in rather rapid succession! My eyes dart toward the source of the sound to see a woodpecker pecking away on a peculiar choice of material: an aluminum gutter. 

silly woodpecker
pecks aluminum gutter
sound is deafening


beak sore, head throbs – I wonder
was lesson learned today

Linked to CDHK episode #735

Shame: a haiku/haibun 

It was easily the biggest Willow tree, and among the larger of all trees, in the neighborhood. As soon as I saw it gracefully swaying in the Spring breeze it grabbed my heart. I always tell folks “We bought the tree; the house came with it.”  It pains me so to see the life threatening damage – likely it’s demise – a lightning strike and subsequent damage from “pests” have caused the old tree over the past two years or so. Many days it’s lush, green canopy has provided me shade from the heat and rest during times of weariness. 

Willow tree older
than me – lightning strike shortens
Your life – such a shame

Linked to Haiku Horizons 65th weekly prompt: the word “shame” and CDHK episode #736

Alone: a haiku/haibun

Looking at the writing prompt for this piece it seems the inspiration behind it, to me and others if I read them right, is a sense of loneliness and, perhaps, regret. This thought like led me down the path which didn’t necessarily produce a “traditional” poem but one that falls, I think, solidly in English haiku style.

The more connected we are via our devices. the more disconnected we become, I believe, from “life”- those closest to us (physically), the beauty and wonder of creation and all it offers, and our inner self, the creative, imaginative part of “us”, among other things.

In a wireless world
We’re constantly connected
Yet feel so alone