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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