PACE Global Haiku • Fall 2006
Dr. Randy Brooks

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Amy Van Rheeden

Selected Haiku

Amy Van Rheeden

Writing haiku has become a refuge for me. For most of my life, I’ve either lived in the past or in the future. As I began writing haiku this semester, I started appreciating the present moment more than I ever had. I hope you enjoy reading these haiku as much as I have enjoyed writing them.

the playground . . .
     we used to swing

he has one trophy:
the cross necklace
from his grandpa

the fan hums
deep sleep


a caterpillar
the sidewalk

he wins our
word game with


her prom dress
h a n g s
near her coffin

independence day:
his own


the hallway:
voices console
teacher's tears

labor day:
he moved my hair
our first kiss


homecoming dance:
i was a freshman
afraid of holding tight

even the
prairie landscape
has no cleavage


the widow has
his portrait
across from her chair

the artist's forehead
the line's still crooked


five years ago
he called me beautiful
in broad day light

car ride...
her hand
on my leg


praying together
for his new job
. . . our thanksgiving

winter night—
friends share
a bed


pi x radius squared—
the area inside
a wedding band

another lesson:
scraping ice off
coach's windshield


© 2006, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.