January 11th 2016

Last night’s closing haiku tormented.

I was dissatisfied with it when I went to bed, dissatisfied this afternoon, and tonight. I was trying to capture something of the magic, and desolation too, of nightfall in winter. Every effort struck me as mundane.



····on the crow’s shoulder—


But this, I think, is where I can finish the haiku. And yet here I sit again, almost midnight and nothing to write.


····on the windowpane—slicing


This is a newer version on a haiku I wrote here. We have four grapefruit halves in the refrigerator now; and the spray of juice on the frosted windowpane. Each morning my daughter forgets the half she cut the morning before.


66: January 11th 2016 | bottlecap

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