Haiku 365: August

#215: 8/1/2015
Drinking an O’doul’s
is like walking a nice old
dog: no bark, no bite.

#216: 8/3/2015
Little clay bluebird,
thimbleful of dark coffee.
Fairy garden tour.

#217: 8/3/2015
Brown furtive rabbits
leap from dawn to dawn, round-eyed,
tracking dusk and dew.

#218: 8/4/2015
Hard, unripe apples
clutch their branches, then plummet
to the placid earth.

#219: 8/7/2015
Fence gets painted white,
becoming by slow degrees
ever more ghostlike.

#220: 8/7/2015
Writing a letter:
thoughts overflow, stain paper;
I send them away.

#221: 8/7/2015
Hourly miracles
sustain us. Scent of apples.
Knowing how to walk.

#222: 8/12/2015
Early morning work,
lunch, and pleasant afternoon,
make for easy rest.

#223: 8/12/2015
Betsy picks peaches.
Trees we planted together
yield up their reward.

#224: 8/12/2015
Jacob the trickster
has grown into stern Israel,
he who strives with God.

#225: 8/12/2015
Audacious squirrel
snatches what he wants, and eats
staring through window.

#226: 8/12/2015
Bullets are crucial
for police officers and
people who like lists.

#227: 8/13/2015
Shining afternoon:
pure sky, fences like beacons,
nearing summer’s end.

#228: 8/14/2015
My decaf coffee,
my non-alcoholic beer.
Faux buzz beats no buzz!

#229: 8/15/2015
Rising in darkness,
stumbling over blank bare tiles
in search of waking.

#230: 8/17/2015
Two o’clock a.m.
In between late and early,
witching hour’s prelude.

#231: 8/17/2015
Banana peel sags
on coaster. Even fruit dies.
Yellow, brown, and black.

#232: 8/18/2015
Brain has turned to mush.
Is it a safety hazard,
typing with mush-brain?

#233: 8/19/2015
Dead men tell no tales,
but living dead can edit.
At least, I hope so!

#234: 8/20/2015
Black six-legged speck
scuttles on screen’s flat landscape,
pixel-ignorant.

#235: 8/24/2015
Thirtieth birthday
passes softly, like a friend
showing me the way.

#236: 8/24/2015
The Empire Strikes Back
and Return of the Jedi.
Betsy’s one of us.

#237: 8/24/2015
Copyeditors
are paragons of English,
flawless at there jobs.

#238: 8/24/2015
A one-year-old walks
fearlessly: joyful, lurching,
heedless of her falls.

#239: 8/25/2015
Critiquing strangers:
an exercise in prose, grace,
and diplomacy.

#240: 8/26/2015
Let go, summer, peace.
Embrace autumn like a son.
Peace, summer, at last.

#241: 8/27/2015
Electric house-lights
enshrine my dim wakefulness
in a land of black.

#242: 9/8/2015
Behind on haikus!
Days late and syllables short,
my keys scramble back.

#243: 9/8/2015
First sip. The booze hits
quick, no obstacles in stomach,
proceed straight to brain.

#244: 9/8/2015
Old sun fades westward,
following its ancient call,
looking for deep rest.

#245: 9/8/2015
Dreams turn inside-out,
filling daytime with their hues,
softening twilight.

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3 responses to “Haiku 365: August

  1. “#237: 8/24/2015
    Copyeditors
    are paragons of English,
    flawless at there jobs.”

    My new mantra. Or maybe my new daily affirmation. Or maybe both. 🙂

    (I recently saw a blog post with a list of “positive affirmations,” and I immediately started to imagine what a “negative affirmation” might be like.)

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