Haiku Kukai 2

Roundtable Haiku • Kukai 2, Fall 2008
(Select 5-8 favorite haiku, and write a ¶ of imagined response to 2 favorites.)

the kitchen counter
spiderlings hatch!

staring me down
in our tent . . .
a black bear

in an alley
two drunks

the echo of thunder and
sudden flaps of wings . . .
birds on wire

airplanes spin
a constant spiral
livingroom mobile

colorful jar
one mint chocolate
at the bottom

in the downpour
a rainbow
of unbrellas

big ant
searching for food—
invading boot

his shoe ruins
a well-built home

wet feet
in the grass
forgotten shoes

clouds at night
peacefully calm
stay put

the homeless man
looks at my ring &
drinks his coffee

chickens scratching
in the backyard
a hawk flies over

freshpainted room
not yet dry
three caught flies

in the air
down feathers
from your blanket

listening to the neighbor
swear at his children
weathered grey fence

star gazing
the brightest one:

squirrel's nut
into the box
out of the box

spring storm . . .
in the parking garage
a homeless man smokes

cold rain outside
the camper bed
her holding him

every place taken
on the finch feeder
september rain

flipping the lightswitch—
sickening clack
of the mousetrap

breathe in
breathe out
a bug crawls by

carving pumpkins
with a butterknife
every one, smiling

looking out across
the lake

sunlight through pale jade
the decline
of her health

ants crawl
to the highest strand
my fallen necklace

next to last page
of the notebook

around her neck
his ring . . . her ring
around his pinky

eating nothing
from the sushi bar—
a U.S. World War II vet

Sunday paper—
kitty sleeps
on Arts & Leisure

fraternity brothers
drinking beer and watching
Love Story

zen meditation
on the patio—
a sneeze

high school ring
his lost memories
around my neck

train rolls by
calling other trains
the sleepers now awake

© 2008, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.