Ten Haiku

plain darkness—

a firefly blinks with

the speed of light

drifting into grass—

a child’s bubble

the air didn’t burst

turning over shells—

one new wave

after the other

pigeons between parked cars—

the street named for

an old queen

return visit—

tall grass in my footsteps

doesn’t spring back

a wider view of the mountains—

Dad’s grave not far from

when he was born

steady morning wind—

lottery tickets on top

of the trash

lingering visit—

the hidden mountaintop

next time

visits end—

the mountain top only the host

has seen

near the museum—

children racing

the lawn sprinkler