Haiku by Ron Sparks

lost in his phone
that businessman
misses the sunset
red cardinal
alights nearby –
notices me
afternoon shower –
finches bathe in my
rain gutter
brittle leaves
swirl in circles
behind the motorcycle
the leaves fall;
my jasmine tea
scents the air
brittle leaves
swirl in circles
behind the motorcycle
the leaves fall;
my jasmine tea
scents the air
summer sweat
hugs my whiskey glass;
runs down my back
serpentine road
turns into the sun;
my throttle opens
twilight –
above the uncut grass
are fireflies
full flower moon
in its halo –
the space station
a single tear –
my whiskey glass
catches the rain
morning dew;
bent in prayer
a pink tulip
pink tulips
laden with dew
greet the morning sun
the little pond –
spring frogs sing
in the humid night
obscured by my breath
rocket rises in the east
I forget I’m cold
left on the ice
a broken hockey stick
weak winter sun
glass on the pond —
the koi still swim
under the ice
the rocket launch;
inside Orion
a new star
yours has frost
yet mine has none
— the wolf moon
light and breezy
across the lake surface —
children laughing