Summer conundrum:
 
Do you need a season word
 
in every haiku?

 
 

Beginning the month,
 
I reach for pen and paper—
 
flyswatter haiku!

 
 

Finishing the month,
 
I reach for pen and paper—
 
butterfly haiku!

 
 

Scorching afternoon—
 
I find some shade, write haiku,
 
and savor iced tea.

 
 
 

Early morning rain—
 
I linger over coffee
 
and write some haiku.

 
 
 

Last day of autumn—
 
with a skipping pen I scratch
 
seventeen haiku.

Short

 
 
 

my life is this short—
 
a single line of haiku
 
cut off from the rest

Way

 
 
 

in desolate times
 
taking the way of haiku
 
through the wilderness

Window

 
 
 

an open window—
 
savoring my first coffee
 
and Basho’s haiku

First

 
 
 

the year’s first haiku
 
in a tiny florid script
 
on cream-white paper