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Night:

Much broken glass
on the path, yet moonlight
for each bit.


There's the moon,
squashed at one edge
by the shadow we cast.

[Note: It's the earth's shadow (ours) that obscures part of the moon.]


Breath of roses
contaminates
the moonlight.


Kite

On taut eye-string
I, earth-spun, tug the full moon:
See it soar!


A cup of moonlight,
just a drop left
in the bottom.


The horizon's half dollar
is worth only a dime
high in the sky.

Refers to the way the moon or sun seems far huger when near the horizon than when well up in the sky.


A rock in the sky,
and yet so full of
"and yet..."


Moonlight catches slivers
of broken windows where no one
stared all day.


Through cloud cover
the moon -- light from the hall
for a sick child.


Moonlit beach.
Ribbons of light ride black waves
to shore.


Full moon; the whole
family gathers to view
the TV screen.

This is senryu, really, referring to the Japanese tradition of going out to view the full moon. Could an American family be dragged from the TV for this?


Grass...black, rake
hard to see, but leaves
white with full moon.


Arctic night;
a switch flicks on day.
Morning becomes electric.

A senryu more than a haiku, relying on the last line's punning of "Mourning Becomes Electra", O'Neill's famous play. The literal reference is to the time of the year when it is night for 24 hours straight, day after day, in the Arctic, so that morning is when you turn on the lights.


Night walk -
I breathe cool autumn air.
Pines secrete darkness.


Walking at night,
autumn air crisp
with reds and yellows.


Crickets. Still, clear night.
In me my past; cold twinkle
of exploding suns.

Might be a reasonably good poem as short lyrics go, but is a good (or bad) example of how not to write a haiku - tries to cram too much in, too fraught with "deep" symbolism.


Fall night.
The starlight shatters
my open window.

If you thought it shattered the window glass, please re-read. The window is already open.


February night -
yellow kitchen light - the last
in the world.


Rain, headlights,
shiny puddles, somewhere
the lane markers.

Awfully hard at times to make out the yellow blips of lane markings on the shiny wet asphalt at night.


Stepping onto the porch -
what happened to the rain?
Who put the stars back!


We turn out the lights
and stop talking; sound of slow
breathing, crickets, cars.


Stars, stars...a planet,
woods, fields, a house, door, dark room,
curtains, window...stars...


3 a.m...."Pam!"
From the living room: "I'm here.
I couldn't sleep."


Working late, knowing
exactly when she'll wake, say
"Come to bed!"


She's still asleep.
Breathing?...yes. (I saw this
movie once...)

Ever since I saw the movie "Barton Fink", in which a young man goes to bed with a lover and wakes to find her murdered beside him, I find, when I wake up during the night, I want to see the motion of my wife's breathing beside me. I'm in my 60s. Soon I'll be waking to check if I'M breathing.


My bed is as rumpled tonight
as I left it this morning --
vacation.


Talking

Luckily the sun
came by to end the night, for we
never would have.


Summer night sky swarms
with stars that flicker through galaxies
of gnats.


4 a.m. car sounds.
As a child, hearing the train's
chuff-puff far...far


The endless going away
of a train in the night
of a child.


Sun beneath the shade,
bird chatter. Must have slept...
The train is gone.


The child tries to stay awake
all night to find out
about night.


Night's mystery
comes from sleep. You can't find it
by staying awake.


In the dark a child sleeps.
In me, a child sleeps.
Am I the dark?


A child, perfect
in sleep. How might a poem
sleep?


"God is in everything" --
darkness and sleep are what
everything is in.


Hope they're enjoying the sun,
wherever it went,
as much as I would.


Window with no shade;
if anyone sees me naked,
it serves them right.


Spring

Summer

Autumn

Winter

Rain

Wind

Night

Morning

Dusk

Walking

Places

Children

Lovers

Loss and Loneliness and aloneness

Characters

Old Age

Music

A Poet's Life

Cats

Dogs

Beasts

Birds

Insects

Plants

Trees

Telephones and TVs

Things

Mankind