Haiku

sharing an umbrella
your wet left shoulder
my right one 

a light breeze
the moon in the birdbath
shivers

mountain
swimming back and forth
in the fog 

closed night club
only the neon lights
dancing

winter silence
the flames in brandy glasses
and our eyes 

— cake sale
diet forgotten bringing home
the sweetest one

the school bus gone
from room to silent room
the dog follows me

moonless night —
from the harvested field
the hoot of an owl 

passing car lights
coloring the rain slick pavement
— another monsoon 

after the storm
in the first moonlight
a cricket starts to sing 

night's indigo shawl
dripping off her shoulders
dawn yawns awake

on the lake
diving for breakfast
hibernal ducks 

banana leaves
tattered by the storm
wave surrender 

between us
vapors from the teacups
autumn chill 

darkening sky
between mimosa blooms
an iridescent honey-eater 

midnight walk
the dog nudges me down
our moonlit path

pail in hand
I trace the muddy path
of childhood mushrooms 

harvest moon
scooping it out of the lake
the rustle of leaves

far from home
their songs missed
- those frogs 

rumors of war
up into a darkening sky
- a child's newsprint kite

azure butterflies
flitting about
flakes of sky

Haibun by Angelee Deodhar 

Atlantis 

The flood waters swirl past overturned casino tables, uprooted trees, debris from thousands of homes; black smoke coils, roils past orange flames on the oily water … which bubbles like a geyser … "a scene from hell" says the anchorwoman. The richest country in the world, struck a week ago by capricious Katrina … leaving death and devastation in her wake … my maid, who has been watching the news, is unable to understand why people are being winched off buildings by helicopters … I explain about the hurricane and that people there are now without food, without electricity and without clean water. 

She looks puzzled and says, "that is bad … but this happens in my village every year, during the rains … our homes get washed away, we are left with nothing but the clothes we wear and we have no electricity, no clean water to drink or wash in … and many people old and young get taken by the river … no helicopters ever come. Why?" 

            arcing into it
                    a sprinkler ripples into
                            the pond without fish. 

(Published in Modern Haiku Volume 37.2, Summer 2006 and got the best of the issue award.)