Haiku
silver unison
skeletal hydro towers
stride the goldenrod
chain-link
fence—
a distinction of goldenrod
beyond pristine lawns
throat-searing
heat
molten slag reddens the night,
but
no mosquitoes
dewy spider
web
beguiles myth and magic—
early light
ancient
cobblestones
poke up through layered asphalt—
faded echoes
still dust of
august
graying the cottonwood green—
we walk hand in hand
smeared windshield—
newly deceased grasshoppers
after the swarm
cornflower
blue
among crickets and tall grass—
two for a picnic
too long away—
where the vase
had been
clean ring in the fine dust
hip-worn
wallet
ring of keys and yard sale ads—
Saturday morning
off the
clothesline
wrinkled, smelling of spring
fresh bird droppings
twitching with
color
butterfly sanctuary
bologna sandwich
newly
diagnosed
advice from long-term patients
the last Easter egg
bicycle tracks
in unset concrete
plastic poppy
crack in
the sidewalk
defined by clumps of grass
a
dandelion
empty plastic
chair
against the deck railing—
score one for lupus
walking
through the house
with the bank’s assessor
foreclosure auction
mom’s house
invaded
vehicles on the lawn
her peonies crushed
dull and
overcast
morning without shadows
chipmunk still chipper
About
Ignatius Fay
I grew up in Levack,
Ontario, Canada and now reside in nearby Sudbury. My love of
words, language and learning extends back to those early years.
I hold a PhD in Invertebrate Paleontology, but became unable to
work due to severe lung/heart disease in 1986. I was introduced
to the Japanese poetic form, Haiku, by an accomplished
practitioner, and have been writing Haiku and Senryu since 1990.
Some of my work has appeared in small, local publications and
collections, the Mensa Canada Newsletter, Heron's Nest and
The Haiku Canada Anthology. In 2008 I self-published a
collection, Haiga Moments: Pens and Lens, that
included some of my more contemporary Haiku chosen and
illustrated by a talented new photographer, Ray Belcourt.
My motivation is to keep writing - striving to capture the
moment. A lot is crap, admittedly, but I've learned not to throw
anything away.
