Cormorant

Leaf 226 – Senryu (or witty, tom-foolery)

 

Tim Chamberlain - Cormorant on Shinobazu Pond (2004)

I’ve always thought that ‘Bela Lugosi’ might be a good nickname for these birds …

 

 

Dracula silhouette –

a cormorant airing

water-soaked wings.

 

 

 

Bela Lugosi as Dracula (1931)

This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #dailyhaikuprompt: 'soaked.'

Murmuration

Leaf 225 – Looking Back

 

C.F. Tunnicliffe - Starlings and Magpies (What to Look for in Winter, 1959)

This poem captures a late, autumnal memory of home. Sometimes it feels so far away, but birds – such as starlings – make similar journeys too, and always with the promise of a return at some point in the cycles of life and all its ever-changing seasons.

 

 

Shoals of starlings swim

– last lights

of a lost day.

 

The ISS

Leaf 224 – Reflections

The International Space Station, or "ISS" (2010) NASA/Crew of STS-132

 

This is a poem about the International Space Station, or “the ISS” as it is often called (note the acronym is hidden in the poem’s second line). It’s always fascinating to track the space station and to see it zipping by overhead, orbiting through the night sky. It moves remarkably fast. I used to have a radio scanner which was capable of tuning into its broadcasts. Often all you would hear were the ‘packet signals’ of digital data which it sends and receives from various ground stations, which sound a lot like old dial-up internet modems used to; but every now and then – especially when the ISS was communicating with schools via ham radio – you might hear the voices of the astronauts on board, which was quite a thrill.

 

I always find it astounding to see and think about this tiny, technological island of humanity which has been up there, continuously inhabited since 2nd November 2000, circling the Earth once every 93 minutes. It’s inspiring as well to think about such a remote scientific research outpost sailing along the outer edge of our planet’s atmosphere, and the global-international cooperative effort which keeps it afloat.

 

 

Passing overhead

in swift silence – a tiny life raft

crossing the river of heaven.

 

 

 

 

This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #haikufeels writing prompt: 'raft.'

Our Boomerang

Leaf 223 – Looking Back

 

S.R. Badmin - Sallow and Blackthorn (Ladybird Book of Trees, 1963)

This is a memory of summers spent in the countryside when I was a kid.

 

 

A week later,

finding our boomerang

– lost in the tall grass.

 

  

 

This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #dailyhaikuprompt: 'tall grass.'

The Pheasant

Leaf 222 – Senryu (or witty, tom-foolery)

 

S.R. Badmin - Winter Pastoral

There’s something about this little poem which always reminds me of Mervyn Peake’s Gormenghast (1950).

 

 

The pheasant,

flapping his wings

– like a schoolmaster in his gown.

Autumn Leaves

Leaf 221 – Reflections

 

Fukuda Heihachiro - Autumn Leaves (1943)

Autumn seems to be a season with its own animus/anima.

 

 

Leaves following

the autumn breeze

– but only so far.

***

The autumn-themed ‘renku’/‘renga’ (or linked verse collaboration) below was written with ‪fellow poet, Rachel Armes-McLaughlin, reflecting upon a photograph she took while on a recent autumnal walk:

the cold, keen wind 

cannot keep the leaves

it dispenses 

just as it cannot

keep this dark season 

savouring autumn’s chill

sunlight glints off 

bright polished shoes – 

auburn leaves underfoot

‪Autumn Light & Leaves, by Rachel Armes-McLaughlin

 

***

 

This final autumn leaves themed haiku is perhaps one of my most Issa-esque ...

Raking leaves – 

the wind wants 

to play too.

The first poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #dailyhaikuprompt: 'breeze.' And the second, written with Rachel Armes-McLaughlin, was also originally posted on Bluesky. Many thanks to Rachel for very kindly permitting me to reproduce her work here. The third and final haiku was likewise also originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #dailyhaikuprompt: 'rake.'

Driftwood

Leaf 220 – Reflections

 

Whether near or far – wherever we start, we all end up somewhere, eventually.

 

 

Coming to rest

on an eastern shore

– driftwood’s long journey.

 

 

Photograph credit: PublicDomainPictures