THE COMMON OBSERVER UNCOMMON OBSERVATIONS

Posts Tagged "haiku"

Sunday Haiku

tattle in the sky ten days after the full moon the lion attacks   the universe sees you float outside the airlock gentle with love   the sky pours out who can say where it begins yet where it peels back Haiku contributed from Nite Rote.

Sunday Haiku

the whole moon knots up when it tries to tell us a tiny truth we already know   we make our harvest of gravitational waves from the worm moon   see you tomorrow the moon says to the pale blue dot when gravity strains Haiku contributed from Nite Rote.

Sunday Haiku

full snow moon carves space in the eye of a hurricane the sun’s tradition   the wind shakes the mountains water pulls up the sky’s roots wings hold the dryad   that time of day when the sun is at its weakest tries to act casual Haiku contributed from Nite Rote.

Sunday Haiku

a star casts a shadow of neutrinos on the earth just to say farewell   a supernova arrives holding the echos of the moon and earth   Janus tilts his faces February’s denial of spring forged in the arctic Haiku contributed from Nite Rote.

Sunday Haiku

the full moon unnoticed passes the entire sky when you blink   the small sea reflects rays of full moonlight a whale surfaces   all who share the earth face the threat of extinction from entropy’s trap Haiku contributed from Nite Rote.

Sunday Haiku

the new moon spits an intention for the new year onto a hot jade stone   hard to unravel yet much more difficult to weave journey into fog   a smoke halo hangs utterly bare on winter up from our embers Haiku contributed from Nite Rote.

Sunday Haiku

are the crows upset with us because we forgot the sky was theirs first   the task of the tides is to ebb and wax to best discover the shores   time flies is a crow in resurgence against tides of the universe Haiku contributed from Nite Rote.

Sunday Haiku

bohemian bird brilliant in character waxes in cold sun   the coppiced woodland desolate in my childhood now home for waxwings   the sun whispers grow to coppiced trees that listen even in moonlight Haiku contributed from Nite Rote.

Sunday Haiku

morning fog is lost to zephyrean beams of light a mountain stands still   have you heard the wind from a bird of prey tell the story of wings   are the crows upset with us because we forgot the sky was theirs first Haiku contributed from Nite Rote.

Sunday Haiku

if the crows are out it is not really raining at all cold and stark perhaps   solar rite divides long ice crystal nights into manageable sorrows   earth can not fathom how sun can yet waver with such constancy Haiku contributed from Nite Rote.