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My haiku aspire to the classical form of three lines in five, seven, and five syllables, with some seasonal reference.
by Duncan Dwelle, 2003-2013
Spring skies blow pregnant
as pillowed clouds promise rain
new green drinks deeply
geese gone North to nest -
Summer sun smiles high all day
baking my bones brown
bright skies and strong breeze
ripe fruit sundered from their vines
sing Autumn’s anthem
why does he smile so
talking head of war each night?
dry leaves fall silently
sad man's face reflects
fear on waters uncalmed by
oil filled drums of war
wind howling through trees
I sit snug knowing no boat
swings from my anchor
faint phrase and fragment
of newborn haiku in hand
watching snowflakes melt
subtle swift haiku
bold word mode paints gentle strokes
of a poet's brush