WINTER Moods
A Dictionary of Haiku
Jane Reichhold
accepting the finite
still standing
where others lived
abandoned cabin
dusting the dresser
a gown which shared
our passion
death
the star sailor
home again
as dreams
wood in an iron stove
falls into ash
bubbles and branches
ice moving
the I Ching hexagram
tree roots
bones of the dead
leaving earth
a carved name
smelling of bone marrow
round and white
last days
as thin as her skin
loose on bones
people who die
when the sea is full
a law of foam
silence
between old folks
no longer breathing
tracing the blue
veins on her breast
winter
baby's ancient face
wrinkled and sexless
grandparents
touchstone
the body arching the abyss
death
antique
mirroring on TV
gone with the wind
boredom
bored by winter
wild surf waters knot
sea grass
bored with winter
a beach walk finds
abandoned toys
another rainy day
cleaning out of the toaster
crumbs
silence
around the old couple
all their repeated words
silence
faces at the party
in a mirror
blocked
after hours of conflict
white waves no longer mount
the black rock
blank book
eyes filled with
waves and wind
cold the room
when the last of the ink
has been written
complaints of being old
without a lamp
the moonlight turns
my hair white
black ink
the many poems dye
my hair white
spilled wine
finger prints on the glass
shaking
young at heart
still the roses fade
on her nightie
a haircut
less white
on this old woman
winter road
a sharp turn
to the nursing home
gaining weight
the world thicker
with snow
winter leaving
another blue vein
on her leg
first snow
I'm not one year older
anymore
gazing at her photograph
the glass reflects
an older face
painted silver
her wrinkles mar
the smooth glass
fifty years
not remembering which
toothbrush is his
aging beauty
truth lies on the mirror
reversed
complaints of the cold
winter so cold
the sun leaves earlier
each day
midnight room
rays of candlelight
star-cold
night cold
surf's surge and boom
in the bathtub
lying in bed
cold beside my sleep
wide awake
delight in company
a new winter friend
up the year's steep sloping
our flow of words
- for Brent Partridge
your poem
the brief language
of footsteps
bird song
under winter quilts
bodies touching
together
your tip glows
as incense burns
seaweed tied in knots
ashore in winter storm
we stick together
necking
the never-ending story
movie forgotten
telephone call
your smile in a space
you've never gone
curved ink
the warmth of your hand
in the letters
charmed
a sunny day in winter
a new you
ice melting
her hand touches
his
a glow
the whole candle
a flame
angels
dreams on your face
my eyes
appearing
me in your dream
you in my...
uplifting
light hearts
magic
this vow
written so deep
in dreams
their eyes
as a priest raises the wine
blood rushes to her cheeks
desire for company
evening alone
only pine mountain
my guest
northeaster storm
yet feelings of longing
dare the cross winds
quilt patterns
the full moon's path
of my desire
deep in winter
no one comes to say
"Look, it's snowing."
desert
silence between us
cold at night
waiting for you
the dull swish
of my raincoat
pines
bowed with snow
my longing
sleeping
your image in dreams
awakens
in my dream
you touch me
awake
it's black
the road that takes
you from me
waiting for guests
the corner of the rug
keeps turning up
something's coming
in winter's high-water marks
a dry rustle
earth frozen dry
leaves behind my wide cape
thus I search for you
wet chalk
it's been such a long time
since you've written
grinding more ink
the only thought that comes
tender as the rain
the chalk of her pelvis
beacons for a child's soul
now draws a line
distant daughter
hearing her coins drop
into a telephone
driftwood hermitage
cold and loneliness
take up the pen
pages filled
yet the stamp carries away
unspoken words
sleeping alone
the cold side
of the bed
desire for spring
wild surf
shaking the sunny beach
our desire for spring
salt crusts
thin skin on a blown beach
this itching
dreams under the tent
of the Burpee seed catalog
winter gardens
eaves dripping
the candle flame
flickers
in the back of my brain
a photo of your eyes
watching my day
blue on the postcard
how far from the sea
we both are
winter days
a heart runs without panting
to the beach
depression
nothing in nature
truly black
my moods
discipline
breathing
underlining sentences
in a book
unknown keys in a box
she takes a vow
- no more love affairs
estrangement
after the argument
the sound of your eyelashes
brushing the pillow
winter cold
the sound of ocean waves
between us in bed
tears not shed
at your leaving
a sinus drip
silence
between your words
anger
silence
after something falls
a coming apart
silence
between words
stories
silence
before the answer
truth
a lover's quarrel
the seamstress tries
to patch things up
fears
asleep
surrounded by things
that don't
hard to believe
the someone touching the roof
is only rain
panic
as rain presses
the window's dark sound
sun on a pine branch
laughing shadow image
a jackeral's face
ghost stories
beyond the fire circle
old/new noises
bear stories
interrupted by the clatter
of a garbage can
precipice
the wind blows stronger
my fear of falling
awakened
by the hours of night
an owl's dream
dreams
turning on the light
staying in the dark
nervous
the whole house shakes
in the wind
three minutes
from here to eternity
a phone call
flickering candle
I'm not the only one
who is scared
moving eyes
objects reproduced
a silence of mirrors
fog fear
things so familiar
they have no shadow
from where come ideas
now when frogs are still
as cold stars
last light
glasses comes alive
to watch out the night
feeling childlike
at the airport
in the town where I was born
sinking into the mud
by a dormant tree
someone is singing
as the scythe rusts
grief for the dead
grief
hours alone lift our feet
from the knowing
alive
the dead go walking
in my feet
mind wandering
dragging a heart-spun net
in heavy seas
a branch
fallen to the roof
downward and sloping
dead
and this morning
he'll never see
helplessness
sea spray climbs sheer cliff
on the beach without legs
a man in a wheelchair
for her window
Persian patterns of a rug
wheelchair spokes
isolation
winter moon
alone it journeys northward
brightens my doorstep
her face
a fold in fabric
smiles
palest butterflies
trapped in paper cages
letters in winter
she saw reflected
in the dampness of his eyes
herself alone
gray painted
the level landscape
life as a photo
a white room
its walls drawing in
the energy patterns
only the candle
reads my poems
wavers in the wind
in my chair
listening to my music
a stranger
silence so profound
it takes the shape
of your inner ear
isolated farms
the white sky of snowdrifts
outlining the cold
fog
closing the brushwood gate
silences ocean waves
leaving a book
blind hands touch
her own smile
window
a filter of snow
winter blind
stairs
where no one speaks
or rises
alone again
with the wind in the pines
somewhere else
gone -
yet the space you left
shines with light
alone
building a fire
for company
alone
in the fire
voices
a strange land
saying I love you
again
the wind dies
the sound in one's own ears
empty
joy of living
enjoying life
for all the dead
the yet unborn
his face aglow
the deaf child
making signs
"Come see the sunset?"
the old woman too busy
for endings
- for Caroline Sutherland
touching me
during the ballet
his left hand
madness
winter madness
parachuting to earth
pale blue creatures dangle
motionless
written in a dream
all three lives
now forgotten
boxlike silence
after the grandparents leave
empty rooms
pain
a chalk drawing
a piece of amber
very near pain
in my ear
hurtful blood sounds
of the sea
your words
the wind rubs the lake
the wrong way
peace
another tranquillizer
the cat begins to purr
more r's in the room
winter weaves
a pile of pillows
on a hard chair
comforter
buttoned to the bed
a curled-up cat
curving waves
sleep carries away
candlelight
packing
arms of the flannel shirt
holding on to peace
smoothed by seas
a nearly round rock
points homeward
home again
raking in the Zen garden
the oldest pattern
driftwood hermitage
a well-chewed stick
writes in the sand
poor
too poor
for a luxury house
walking a deserted beach
his crooked face
peering into a puddle
for a dropped penny
silence
marked down half-price
the broken squeak toy
release
cloud-covered
a departed soul
sky-blue
wind still
Grandma's afternoon nap
lasts forever
the string cut
in death feet go awry
walking labyrinths
no!
the grave is not the end
we remember too much
remembering
twilight
finding in an old album
dad is still young
opening her closet
secrets alive in the colors
she has worn
snow
pictures of other lands
other lovers
winter colors
passing in sleep
dream zones
measuring
the box once again
inside
underground
the Celtic cauldron
a ringing bell
winter dreams
lingering on long arms
summer warmed
I touch myself
with lacquered nails
as you once did
memories
stored in our muscles
an iron will
without a shadow
on bright days
the hand I know
rejection
mailbox
a frozen puddle overflows
a rejection slip
bedtime story
"I love you." he said
leaving to meet a lover
ebb tide
anger and rejection
sucked out to sea
filled by the sea
the stony places
of hurting
all my anger
singing with the vacuum
cleaner
rows of holes
edging the stamp
of your last letter
after our words
on the lace tablecloth
cut flowers
data processing
her letters from New York
in winter
restlessness
gutted candle
if only I too
could sleep
sea wind
searching me for something
someone I once was
desiring freedom
her photos no longer
capture views
misty red daybreak
newly lit fires in the kitchen
wish to be on a train
solitude
sweet cold
incense in a winter room
alone
treasure
in a seashell serene colors
a day alone
a roof of rain
the sound inside
solitude
silence
after you've gone
the widening world
silence
when all alone
a tunnel
a corner
the shape of solitude
chair and book
deaf child
patterns of a Persian rug
echoing
winter
the hours melting
into snowflakes
still awake
on top of the comforter
one feather
long damp beach
winter solstice
at ebb tide
walking in a fog
a solitary person attended
by angels
the shape of wind
writing in dunes
loneliness
alone in the house
the flavor of peppermint
cold on the tongue
a journey begins
the way familiar
to the door
frozen to his feet
the length of a shadow
wanting to sleep
alone in the room
the gaudy television
and me smiling
empty coffee cup
the face looking at me
gone
tight shut
"origami"
she explained folding
up the dollar bills
uselessness
homeless man
tied to his sleeping bag
shoes going nowhere
art store sale
the poet buys erasers
at a discount
an old maid
her favorite dancing dress
yellows the attic
warm-breath wind
words are helpless
on parted lips
since birth unemployed
the rich man
and his navel
weeping
darkness welling up
cold waters of the sea
a sob
songs of sorrow
the harp string breaks
the fall of tears
laughter
after the argument
sounds like sobs
a blue wave
on the crest
an eyelid closed
Continue to WINTER Occasions.