Haiku 10

Photo by Omar Willey. Licensed Creative Commons CC-By.

Photo by Omar Willey. Licensed Creative Commons CC-By.

Out of this nightfall
two white trucks nose-to-nose, or
were they always there?

Two young women kiss
and just so, the storm passes…
the laughter and glass.

All my life I dreamed
of glory but I don’t know it
sitting awake.

Raindrops fill a pond
in the parking lot, size of
a lake, to an ant.

The edge of the storm
black, moving fast to the north,
sunlight past the hill.

Ice cream, 2 am
recalling how for one pint
I felt immortal.

The wind in the storm
just for a moment, so like
a small boy’s whistle

A thing sublime, this
all that can be done, is to
await its return.

Homeward in the dark
she remembers a good friend
not seen for decades.

Curiosity
leaves some of us still standing
and I miss the rest.

Tiny birds, blossoms,
the gardeners–how little
I know of it all!

It doesn’t last, but
for a few seconds I float
above my raging.

Bright gleaming innards
of the transparent disc case
lit by the sunset.

Ticking baseboard heat
awful day, today, and that’s
one thing we got right.

Again I tell them
God does not exist; again
I get what’s coming.

Our team wins the game
cars honk passing north and south
the sun waits to rise.

These two enemies,
I leave them at the table
to share growing old.