welcome to the haikutimes

Issue #10 Sunshine Canyon, Colorado September 8, 2001 featuring: Patrick Lynn, Jonathan Machen, Sanjay Rajan, Susan Peterson, Krista Morien, Robert Power. photos and layout: Jonathan Machen

the wind spirit
plays the harp softly
in the quiet wilderness

the icosahedron
mutates to the fabulous

counting syllables or
listen to drizzling snow melt
i stand and listen

soft thud
of the melting snow
then quiet again

like the shifting clouds
all i want to write about
are my emotions

melting snow
tracing down my neck
then goose bumps

a thud behind me
i turn my head to see
a branch free of snow

looking for warm boots
startled by a crow
in the snow behind my shed

a bit frightening
the end of the deep gray sky
-clouds, like death, move on.

out over the plains
where the clouds end and a farmer
squints and looks our way

from my mountain home
the edge of the dark clouds
mark the boundary to town

first snow almost melts
comes too soon for the garden
leaves burned by the cold

drip, drip, thud, sprinkle
i stay safely on the path
while the trees weep

first autumn snowfall
a drop collects at the tip
of each pine needle

snow in september
cold, wet, impermanentit
is what it is

among the benches
bodhisattva statue

goddess of mercy
sitting above the starhouse
jazz runs in circles

just by default
my haiku is worthy
of this fine paper

pawing through the first snow
the scent of the garden
still holds summer

on the ground-snow
and metallic confetti
that, made by man, wont change

echo in this quiet
my whistle carrying far
followed by jingles

leaving poke marks
on seasons first snow
this mornings rain

cold september day:
a flower with friends for petals
surrounding a nap

nighttime ritual
without waking her i take
the book from her hands

my haikus
stained with every drop
of melting snow

the garden hijacked
by an early snow, but lookat
how red the squash

an early snowfall
marks the end of summer
time waits for no one

garden under seige
sunflowers droop with the cold
first snow of the year

revealing the grass
under the first snow
his soft paw prints

whistling sculpture
i stand next to it and look
for a power source

tracing the first snow
with our soft footprints
our paths meet

in first snow
my joyful heart reveals
quieter moments

early first snow
looking at a red zinnia
and smelling wood smoke

solo/group kukai
jonathan machen