Kukai 5 - spring break

Global Haiku • Millikin University • Spring 2013

spring break
alone in bed
I replay his voicemail

creaky door
he sneaks back
from her room to his

cooking together
as the oven warms
so does my heart

evening heart-to-heart
lit by
a candle

singing in the car
more sappy love songs
winter wind

3 am
you drive me home
stinted conversation

she steps off the plane
into the cold wind

sitting at the tiki bar
for the very first time
I finish a fish bowl

the familiar sensation
of a sunburned shoulder
first day of vacation

we crack the shells
and talk all night

over stale bread
old friend

she takes off her shoes
and her belt . . .
airport security

new car smell
new car feel
new car stress

dinner with my grandparents
we discuss the new plots
at the cemetery

tea and scones
Bible study ladies
join hands in prayer

cable car
a steep incline
pushes me toward you

first vacation with his family
his dad sees
when I take my pill

you look so old!
they exclaim.
. . . it's been a month

home alone
a branch breaks—
obviously a serial killer.

all I want
is sleep

a walk to clear the mind
she ends up
collecting trash

Sunday night
one hour . . .

she begins to relish
each chance to pamper her son

old friends
catch up
coffee grows cold

pitter patter on the roof
we play Scrabble
in our princess gowns

passing the orange grove
I crack the window
to say goodbye

10 minutes in the mirror
should I buy
these pants

family road trip:
a chance to play pokemon
without ridicule

time is money
only true
if I had a job

needs love
just like you

break never lasts
long enough
the long ride back

he lassos one more
make it a double,
no onions

Chinese take-out
we discuss
the meaning of life

a spring break
four seasons long . . .
my favorite tv show.

afternoon sunlight
seems possible

whisper the words
just right . . .
“just right.”

Mom's car
disappearing over the hill—
not any easier

night sky
scattered with diamonds
how could I forget . . .

strip to my swimsuit
on the beach . . . wait
why is it cold

second day of break
second day of




two fish
to infinity . . . and

groom in a vintage suit
his long locks
rival her gown

reaching for hair
only to remember
it's gone

maybe the city will name
the skate park after him
. . . but probably not

one more episode?
my heart says no
Netflix says go

back from break
laundry in baskets
I'll fold it later

whoosh of cars
whizzing by
I glimpse into each world

home again, home again
jiggity jig
bed's too small

living vicariously
through friends' updates
cold grey Midwest

a phoenix risen
from the white-blue glow
of the tanning bed

metal prodding
in my mouth—
stop asking me questions

dust covers the prom dresses in the closet


driving back
we forget the words
at the same time


sand and sunshine
want to leave

side by side
separated by a fence
the low moan

the pier at night
we watch
as the Bay Bridge lights up

my week complete
by seeing you
blue sky

exploring the neighborhood
with the dog

back from Spring Break
sitting my suit case
outside my locked door

windows down
music blasting
. . . 9 more hours



© 2013, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.