home from work
the intimacy
and loneliness
of a shared wall
(haiga)
Author: Bill Waters
Bill Waters looks at the world through haiku-colored glasses and likes what he sees. He lives in Pennington, New Jersey, U.S.A., with his wonderful wife and their two amazing cats.
point A
to point B …
is life
ever really
that simple
(haiga)
as if
I’m royalty —
blossoms beneath my feet
I practice
letting go . . .
autumn morning
never before
and never again
. . . cloud’s shadow
late afternoon–
a glimpse of sunlight
through her hair
cobwebs
fill the curve
of the snow shovel
low tide . . .
river mud glistens
pink in the setting sun
riverside wedding —
the flower girl
picks a dandelion
so like bones
the bone-white branches
of the birch tree
first stars . . .
the timer turns on
the X-mas lights
