Branches dip
in the stream
Summer departs

Fingers dip
in the stream
Summer arrives

Ice
covered trees
Brittle branches

Brown blowing
cattails
The setting sun

Empty house
Dry snow
on the gate

Empty house
Dry snow
on the door knocker

Ice
on the rose
Sunset

Ice
on the rose
Sunrise

Puddle
Fallen leaves
floating

Frozen
grass
Footsteps

Red robin
in the wet snow
Branches sag

Clear cold
stream
A stone

Branch hangs
low in the snow
Last leaf

Branch hangs
low in the snow
Another leaf

Reflections
on the frozen lake
Chimney smoke rises

Pond on the prairie
Geese descend
to the cold brown grass

Pond on the prairie
Geese ascend
from the cold brown grass

Leaf
hopped –
A frog!

Spider’s web
glistens in the morning sun
We step around

Bright red poppies
and a wide blue sky
Pass the beer

Sea
until the sky
Your gaze

Birds flock
on top of streetlights
People pass below

People talk
under the streetlights
Birds pass above

Colorful mural
Masked faces
on a city street

Monkey swings
in the jungle
Unfocused mind

Monkey swings
in the jungle
Focused mind

First drops
of rain
Kettle steams

Laundry hangs
in the alley
Fresh breeze

November sun
The warm press
of our bodies

Pliers in his
shirt pocket
Business casual

Sea rolls past
the pier
Our anniversary

Wedding day
Garlic and onions
on the kitchen counter

Wedding night
Garlic and onions
on the kitchen counter

African
violet
Mother’s Day

Dressed in black
Snapping her gum
at his funeral

Crabs
in the tidal pool
Seaside village

Fungi
on the forest floor
Redwoods

Double doors
opened wide
The coffin

Family boathouse
on the lake
Polishing the teak

Colored rocks
in the clear lake
Black flies swarm

Morning mist rises
over the estuary
Two men argue

House
on a salt marsh
Water lapping the stilts

The edge
of a salt marsh
Wet sunlit field

Marshland
The childhood smell
of muck

Bear
eats a fish
Fossil fuel

Only breath
The silent pause of
a string quartet

Learning to fly
Tom Petty
in dungarees

Learning to fly
John Coltrane
in reverie

Learning to fly
Johnny Rotten
in recovery

That Bird can fly
Charlie Parker
with mastery

Standing
still
In the suburbs

Still
standing
In the suburbs

Still
can’t stand
The suburbs

Journaling
The eagle stretches
its claw

Journaling
Toy blocks scattered across
the floor

Higher education
Monkeys
in a tree

The fence
and the car
Border guards

Hillside home’s
infinity pool
View that breeze

Lighthouse
Moonrise
over the bay

Wandering monks
Hounds sniff out
truffles in the forest

The line
between sea
and sand

The line
between sea
and sky

The lines
between the rolling
waves

A spray
of sea leaps
and falls

Peeling
hot peppers
The last time we cooked

Peeling
hot peppers
Rinsed our hands clean

Ladies quilting
Trading
stories

Ladies quilting
Repeating
patterns

Ladies quilting
Stitching together
history

Wooden boat
The breeze
on a cold lake

Muskrat stands
in the headlights
She lights a cigarette

Lover stands
in the porch light
She lights a cigarette

Foggy shoreline
Your profile
comes into view

Monarch butterfly
and the
Common milkweed

Family dinner
Slicing
red onions

Family dinner
frying
sliced onions

Early morning
The sweet smell
of burning sugar cane

Early morning
The sweet burning smell
of sugar cane

Early morning
The sweet smell of burning
sugar cane

Early morning
burning

Couple argues
Hot and cold pipes
beneath the sink

Crabs
on ice
The pot boils

Smoke and jazz
with a stand-up bass
Wind in the pines

Smoky jazz
with a stand-up bass
Wind in the pines

Smoking hot jazz
with a stand-up bass
Wind in those pines

Peeling wallpaper
End of
the argument

Flowered wallpaper
Peeling plaster
in the sunroom

Quick glances
Mountain roads bend
high above the sea

Parade route
Wildflowers line
the boulevard

Protesters march
Wildflowers line
the boulevard

Property lines
viewed from a drone
Marching in the streets

A basket
of potpourri
The public toilet

Rowing
toward shore
The wind

Rising
and falling waves
The sea

Old man
rakes the leaves
Remembering

House
with a gate
The visitor knocks

Tasting hors d’oeuvres
at La Belle Vie
Shrimp trawler at dawn

Nearly empty
Blackbirds splash
in the bird bath

Geese block
the moon
Coyote pass

Some houses
just rot and fall
Winter rose

Wet leaves
This town rose up
from a river

Silence
Wind blows
this flat land dry

Silence
Eel wrapped around
the eagle’s beak

Silence
The child
and a gobstopper

Hands pause
on the keyboard
Birdsong

Hands pause
on the keyboard
A footstep

Old friends
A piled and loose
stone wall

Flames rise
Autumn colors
surround the lake

The craze
these days
Potted succulents

The night hills
of Los Angeles
Each lit window

Harvest moon
Fall
to the ground

Harvest moon
Too big
to fall

Harvest moon
Too big
to fail

Harvest moon
Picking corn
from the ground

Western sky
Sun sets
behind the bison

Uncut grass
Bobcat
in the backyard

Painted
lady
Butterfly

Powdery
remains
The blue butterfly

End of summer
The sunflower
that never bloomed

Old dory
Lying still
on the shells and sand

Standing on a rocking
paddle board
Sky darkens

American
sparrowhawk
Sparrows

Beach grass
Tickles
from the breeze

Beach grass
Ticks
on my sleeves

Paddling the kayak
Waterline meets
sky

Lit church
Under the bright
Milky Way

Montana
open road
Red Mustang

Sky clears
Roasting
sunflower seeds

Strong flavors
Yellow onions
arise from the soil

Long walks
Rocks and sea and
windswept heathers

Canyon hike
Sounds of thunder
and rushing water

Rural signpost
Different roads
same big sky

September 11
Empty boots
by the door

Sea spray
The gull stands
in cold morning sand

Walking the mudflats
Bare feet
splashing on clay

Sandals left behind
Surf breaks
over the rocks

Paper boat
glides on the lake
The young boy wonders

Tugboat
pushes into harbor
The old man wishes

Camp fire
at night
As close as I can

Between us
The stars and
a camp fire

Open sky
Wire and post
cattle fence

Desert shade
Sparkling water
with lime

Branches dip
into the stream
Summer memories

Rooftop garden
Organic herbs grown
on the roof of a shack

Rooftop garden
Fair-skinned Herbert groans,
“The sunburn on my back!” 

Rose blooms,
drops, dries, and blows
The bees

Flies flit
Dirt caked
on a bison’s back

Footprints
in the wet sand
Children splash in the sun

Footprints
in the wet cement
Teens scatter in the night

Horses bent
The prairie
grass blows

Into the sundown
U.S. Highway 1

The garden
Before the peonies
bloomed

After the flood
Ducks swim past
my mailbox

Climbing
the mast in the sun
The breeze

Climbing
the trail on the shore
The waves

Climbing
the trellis in the yard
The rose

Climbing
the wall in the dark
The thief

Hummingbird
Deep into the red
Dahlia

Tourists rising
Hot air balloons
over the desert

Still pond
Speak

Still pond
Spoken

Red
rock
Rising

Wine
cellar
Warm sunshine

Cliff rises
from the sea
Grandfather’s wristwatch

Our shadows
Shifting angles on a
rippled pond

Ant
on a flower
Lawn mower

I’m too close
Bees buzz louder
in the begonias

Mountain views
The floating
lakeside dock

Flowers stand
in a widemouthed jar
Visiting Mom

Birdsong
and plumage
Sending out selfies

The dead
branches cut and cleared
Summer breeze

Standing on the bow
of a rocking skiff
Father’s Day

Wet dog shakes
in the sun – A crescendo
of scattering children

A jar of ice
cold lemonade
The mortuary table

Ostriches and lions
lounge on the grassland
Too hot today to run

Hiker’s reward
Big sky, whisky, and a
highland cow

Brief colors
Summers on the
Alaskan lake

Butterfly rises
The smell
of lavender

We stood close
under your umbrella
The honeysuckle

Dive bar
Photos of bison, bulls, and a young
Johnny Rotten

Pigeons flutter
Each flash
of the fireworks

Chewing
and listening
Rabbits

Chewing
and sniffing
Bears

Chewing
and spitting
Uncle James

Elephants cluster
Crossing the dry
river bed

Spanish moss
in the darkening swamp
Water in my shoes

Spanish moss
Water in my shoes
in a darkening swamp

Moving shadows
Windsurfer leans over
the choppy bay

Bear in a tree
Nowhere to go
but down

Boughs that bend
A bear ascends
the young poplar tree

Travelers wait
A bear on the road
leaving town

Seaside
getaway – Empty
lifeguard stand

Fish bites
the bait
Again

Falcon descends
talons tilted
Movement below

Water flows
under the bridge
The fisherman waits

Sweat flows
under my shirt
The policeman waits

Ants flow
over the lawn
My ham sandwich waits

HummingBirdSong

Hummingbird
song

Humming
birdsong

Humming
bird
songs

Humming
Songbird

Humming
song –
Bird!

Chair
on a dock
The sea

A moose chews
wildflowers, antlers wide
in the sun

Rabbit hangs
from the labrador’s mouth
The children scatter

Sparrows dip and shake
evaporating
droplets

Summer bees
Inspecting
the colors

Field of red
poppies, our sandals warm
in the sun

Field of red
poppies, our faces warm
in the sun

Water lilies
float upon the pond
Gently tethered

Crowded pier
stands above the surf
Gently tethered

Steaming nostrils
sipping my tea
The submerged hippo

Highway traffic
Passing the wild
flowers

Moonlight through
the cypress branches
Fireflies

Two forks
and a spoon
Crime scene

One boy
and his pail
The ocean

One boy
and his kite
The sky

One man
and a shovel
His grave

Summer lightning
The smell of idling
boat engines

Summer lightning
Children running
to the ice cream truck

Summer lightning
Your fingers spreading
on my back

Boys casting lines
off the rocky seawall
Fish too small to keep

Large Sorrento
lemons – Americans boast while
crossing to Capri

Amalfi coast,
sipping limoncello
on the water

Amalfi coast,
smelling petrol fumes
on the water

Tending the garden
on Independence Day
The caw caw of crows

Tending the garden
on Bastille Day
The caw caw of crows

Tending the garden
A muffler backfires
in the distance

Brown heat on the
great plains – A faraway
church steeple

Sunflowers
then
a faraway rooftop

Wet sand
Seagull pecks
at a bag of chips

Summer heat
Hold me
close

Summer heat
Hold my
clothes

Beloved garden
stones, long before
the strawberries

The petunias
Mouse
and hawk

Birds atwitter
Evening rain
then a raging stream

Rain
droplets
The bluebells

Two lovers
Those crawling
petunias

Waves rush
and foam
Seabirds hover

Young buck vanished
in the morning light – Startled
to read my bathroom scale

Dilapidated
fence, even the cows
step over it

The warblers
pass over, the cows
stand still

Grandfather’s hands
Each stone in the wall
placed and piled

Abandoned
asylum, an empty
barber’s chair

A deer chews
the flowers in my garden
My back stiffens

A deer chews
the flowers in my garden
His tail swats gnats

A deer chews
The garden
flowers

Umbrella lifts
on the windy beach
Last breath

Spiraled staircase
Rising hotter
and hotter

Heat blasts glass
down the metal steps
Fire escape

Trampled fence
Deer cross
the property

Butterfly lands
on a blade of grass
Sunset

Lover’s padlock
on a chain link fence
Empty building

Lover’s padlock
on a chain link fence
Broken glass

Lover’s padlock
on a chain link fence
Smoke is rising

Abandoned pier
Waves roll past
the remaining pilings

Morning walk
Sun glistens in the
spider’s web

Air Force
flyover
The crowd waves

Air Force
flyover
The crowd scatters

Smashed glass
Gathering wildflowers
in a vacant lot

Smashed glass
Gathering wildflowers
in a sunny field

Flickering light
Tiger painted
on a city wall

Flickering light
Tiger waiting
in a forest tree

Dreams
Sea nets
at dusk

Stormy night
Curtain blows from
the open bedroom window

Twister cuts
through the open field
The sparrows

Humpback breaks
through the swelling sea
The gulls

Wooden fence
in the shifting dunes
The wave breaks

Wooden fence
in the shifting dunes
The wave recedes

Ferns cross
the sunny patch
Children play

Hostas return
We can’t retrace
our steps

Turn out
all the lights
Night sky

Drive
until we can see
Night sky

Give me back
the stars
Night sky

Chess or
checkers
Two brothers

First kiss
Kettle steams

Salt marsh
Footprints

Overgrown yard
Charcoal and
the lighter fluid

Me and
the tall trees
Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony

Row
of roses
Six feet apart

Field
of garlic
Six feet apart

Still life
Warbler
on the hot tile roof

Still life
Sparrow
on the barbed wire fence

Family picnic
Cypress roots above
the water line

The seagulls
and the setting sun
Motorcar idles

Donkey stopped
in the rain
My birthday

Stone arches
Bent in prayer

Only air and gas
at the roadside station
We drive on

Coronavirus
left no fingerprints
Deceptive politics

Coronavirus
left no fingerprints
Obsessive hand washing

Bicycle leans
on the woodpile
Moonlight tryst

Tulips
peel open
Morning prayers

Cool water
Walking the beach
in our sneakers

Flowering field
The hog farm
processing plant

Empty church
Bent bluebells
blowing

Clear moon
A tremor on her
sleeping face

Birdsong
Four hatchling mouths
opened upward

Tiger emerges
from the darkness
The smell of hot cinnamon

Shining sun
Saplings shaded
beneath the oaks

The deluge
Empty church
in the valley

The deluge
Empty home
on the prairie

The suburbs
Springtime smell
of manure and mulch

Timing the market
Biking on wet
cobblestone

How we first met
Locomotive
smoke

Still mind
Sunrise through the
red rock arch

Until tomorrow
Matching masks
on the bedside table

School’s out
One bike
left in the row of racks

It was not a dream
Birdsong in the cold
April morning

Our last goodbye
Waning crescent
moon

SciFi everywhere
Everyday

Class of 2020
Waiting in the woodshed
for the rain to end

Each raindrop
returns again –
Labored breathing

Each raindrop –
Labored breathing
returns again

Tulips push
through the soil
Commerce returns

Spring rains
soften the soil
Exhale

Suicide hotline
Broken branches gather at the bend
in the creek

These years
Sparrows in the trees
at daybreak

Spray-talkers
Ants on a soggy
slice of bread

Antibodies
Robins peck
at the sunny grass

Starless night
Cold coffee
with milk

Heavy snow
Under the boughs
of the evergreen

Bronchial narrowing
Thick snow
on the branches

Vaccine
Greased up
for the big fight

Slipstream
Respiratory droplets
on the move

The economy
Sick patient
with comorbid risk

Spring stream
My blood flows
strong again

Spring stream
My breath flows
strong again

Respiratory
droplets – Soft
spring rain

Our eyes
rise and meet
Vista

Son
My fashionable face
mask

Father
My disposable face
mask

Grandfather
My hospital face
mask

All my teachers
Circadian
rhythms

Scattered stones
All the good friends
I’ve left behind

Scattered lilies
All the good friends
I’ve left behind

Missing socks
All the good friends
I’ve left behind

Fever spiked
Season’s first
forsythia bloom

Fever broke
Season’s first
forsythia bloom

Hard rain
A traveler holds open the door
for a stranger

Hello
Distant
bluebird

Homebound
Hummingbird hovers
sipping nectar

Penned panther
Can’t catch
my breath

A leaf rises and twirls
and falls with the breeze
That uncovered sneeze

A hermit
crab scuttles
The patient fish

Rabbit stirs
My mother’s
dry cough

Honeysuckle wrapped
throughout the hedge
Infection spreads

Still home
Board
games

Six feet apart
A stranger replaces
the old man’s car battery

Receding tide
Driftwood and the passing
piping plover

Vigilance
The birth of a
foal

Frivolous
The mirth of a
fool

Spring chill
Rinsing
my spoon and bowl

Daybreak
Raindrops on the metal
rooftop

Mother’s love
Folding warm
towels

Pandemic
This sunshine

Long winter
Sunning ourselves between
the snowfalls 

If this fever
doesn’t break . . .
Social media

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Bees
in the hot attic –
Scattered thinking

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

No paper
How will we pay
our bills?

No paper
How will we wipe
our bums?

No paper
How will we get
our news?

No paper
We will chart
our course by the stars

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Compound interest
Virus rates grow
day after day

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Your hands
Power lines cut across
the grassland

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

4 am on the nightstand clock
Cargo train sounds slowly
in the distance

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Cormorants
stand at attention
The ship’s mast appears

Parents
stand in the darkness
The school bus appears

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

After the fall
The gull drops the clam
onto the rocks below

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Morning market
Shore birds crowd
the advancing tide

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

March madness
Gull floats on the rolling
foaming sea

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

No wind
on the lake
Samantha

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Clickbait
The gator swallowed
a mourning dove

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Mind the Furies
Three crows atop
the winter tree

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Surpasseth
understanding – Blowing sand, surf, and
that all-covering snow

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Engines idling
Ancient turtle paused
in morning sun

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Dragon waits
Lit windows curled up
the darkened hill

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Not alone
Rabbit in the brown
winter field

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Deeper
the winter woods
Your gaze

Eyeliner brush
A dusting
of snow

Geese
in formation – the rising smoke
of her cigarette

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Rally for votes
The sounds of hounds
in the distance

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Monster
truck race honking geese flight
song

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Power couple
Asphalt and
the shifting alluvium

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Bats blot
the sky
Legalese

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Wind rolls
and swells and swirls the sound
Sleep

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

You step carefully
across the oars
The rocking skiff

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Hounds
on the scent
Casino

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Under the sycamore
Many seasons of
lovers’ glances

Rain
The sandy ravine is now
a clear stream

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Rain
The muddy ditch is now
a muddy stream

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Under the sycamore
Many seasons of
dead leaves

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Hawk skims
the tops of trees
New salesman grins

Hawk skims
the tops of trees
New mother frowns

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The chimney still
puffs smoke
Grandfather’s cabin

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Trucks speed
up and down the frozen highway
Chakras

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Two trees fell
Into each other
across the creek

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The thief paused
in motion-triggered
light

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Moonlit pond
Brightened window on a
darkened street

Moonlit pond
Brightened window in a
darkened house

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

My city
Steel trees that stand
but never bend

My city
Glass eyes that stare
but never tear

Damp chill
Flag flutters
in the streetlight

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Step by step
homeward in the blowing rain
Heartbeat

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Knotted oaks 
line the college quad
Racehorse

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Gaps of light
in the cloudy sky; Listen
to the children

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Winter crow
Ache in my
teeth

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Gaunt deer in winter
The empty
church

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Smokestack plumes
The lost
argument

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Promises
Slow leak drips
beneath the kitchen sink

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Your last words
ended with a question mark
Wolf tracks

No snow,
no ice
Only street sand

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Behind that
fixed face
Windshield ice

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Season’s greetings
Hot gas escapes
from the ocean floor

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Breakfast
conversation – icy
river rising

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Face numb cold
walking to school
Multiplication

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

My cold
gloved fingers ache
Piano lessons

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

hard to speak
with cold numbing lips, a floorboard 
creak downstairs

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

the blizzards keep
covering my shoveled
walk

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Silent cold
An unexplained
dog bark

Freezing hands
on morning walk – Your skin
beneath the covers

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Wind at night –
Mare bucks and snorts and
blows

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Snow
squall
Sneeze

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

frozen
footprint, another
birthday

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Vodka straight up
He slipped and froze between
curb and car

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Lake ice
cracks underfoot –
Decision time

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Ivy spreads
roots before
leaves

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

red feather
fresh light white
snow

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

My steadfast companions
Moon, streetlight,
that lit window

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

his old coat
heartbeat
gone

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Lead collects
in cold water pipes –
Broken branches

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

that damp skunk
smell again – history
repeats

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Night’s frozen eye
Blue and white surround
a misty moon

Those bare oak
trees by the creek –
Look again

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

winter crow
emptied
hospital

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Another warm
winter day – All the birds
are chirping

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Frozen grass and branches,
low orange full moon
stares

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Locomotive
pushes through fog
Daybreak

Locomotive
pauses in fog
Cigarette

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Wolf missed
the deer and noticed me
Scent of your neck

Spotless blue
sky curves over my city, streets and
palms upward

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Hands wrapped
around my warm coffee mug
Remembering

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The cold
on my face wakens and widens me
Sky

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Morning walk –
Streetlight, cold, distant sound
of a car

Morning walk –
Streetlight, cold, darkened
faces

Morning walk –
Streetlight, cold, no one
ever waves

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

A year begins –
Cut stones line
my winter streets

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

That deep spring snow
ten years ago

We stumble and fall
pushing through
the deep snow

Two trees that bend
then descend
into white drifts

I rise and push on

Slow thaw,
sunrise after sunrise,
snow on patches of grass

Spring sprouts here
sprouts there

Doorway swings
the shack; I’m gone
and yet I’m back

Offering
knock-knock jokes
to the thunder and sky

Waiting
for some reply

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Out of the office
Blackberries blaze
in the sun

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Coyote howl
The trees surround
this silence

She’s gone

For Tabatha

fly
black crow
night

come fly
black crow
night

come
fly black crow
night

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Ice melts
and spreads
These boots

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

walking the long
shadows under a warm winter’s
setting sun.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

A kiss
Before the ice
thawed

A kiss
Before the wind
warmed

A kiss
before the
sun

a kiss
before the ice
thawed

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Cold surrounds
and presses
A sparrow’s egg

Swollen springtime
river, fluid
in her lungs

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Empty house –
A crow calls out
in the cold.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The vacuum cord
won’t retract – My dog won’t last
the winter.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Buddha –
Dry snow covers
ice.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Foggy dawn –
We held hot
cups of tea.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Slicing sweet
apples – Ten years
of marriage

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Kigo and Kireji
Lovers
quarrel

Wind
levels –
Hiccup

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Lightly
touch my face
The breeze

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Winds shift –
the corners
of her mouth

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Those stars.
No more fish
in the bay.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Iced
vodka, the fresh cut
flowers

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Fog
covers
Your blaze

Summer kiss,
beside that red
setting sun

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Just my breath
These silent
poplar trees

Green lawns
Dead beetles
line the curbs

The flowers
are gone from the garden –
Cherokee

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Dry stones
on the hard dirt – A cat
walks by.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

A tin can
jiggles the soft
winter night.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The hummingbird –
My doorman reads
Nietzsche

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The old man
waits for his
daffodils.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Just me –
Blood
flows

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Her lips
play
trombone

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Morning snow
on wooded branches –
Deadlines loom.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Lemon’s
squeeze –
Poetry

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Tire tracks
curved and crossed on soft
wet snow

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Rock salt
on broken pavement –
Shotguns

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

winter
warm breath
dissipates

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Slow
economy – Time for
a walk

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Third eye
Half-white day-lit
moon

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

I’ll sing
until the birdsong’s
done.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Night falls
onto black
ice.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Trees
sway
still

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The snow crunches –
It’s close amongst
these birches

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Wind waves
of powdered snow
Your entrance

Manicured –
Can’t touch her ’til the tips
are dry

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

My poodle
pushes on, smelling life
in frozen ground.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Shoveling
windy snow – The gulls
circle and call.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Everyone
someday
Sirens call

These old lungs
Plastic flapping on
wooded branches

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Le mot juste –
Raindrops on a dry
field.

I am
a flat field, receiving
raindrops.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Snow melts
on a flat field – What happened
to us?

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

See also We Chatted

A gray gull
soars then disappears
Gray clouds

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Dead birds
Inexpensive
Peruvian sweater

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Geese
descend again, then
again.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Inspired by the comment stream on Geese Rest

A hawk circles
Silently searching
for motion

Geese rest
in the green field until
tomorrow.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

My hope? To be an original. Derivative, to be sure, but a new combination, an impossible individual. Will you be an original, too?

Sparrows splash
in shallow sunny
puddles.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

A gull’s call
answered by a passing
cloud.

A gull’s call
answered by a passing
bus.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

I am once,
sprouted from this air,
that soil, growing.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

New moon –
Same chill wind through
the same bare trees

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Geese rise
in morning light . . . I step
onto wet sand.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Bring on
winter’s night, only spare me
the wind.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Rain melts
the snow to evening ice –
We’ve slipped so far.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

We chatted at lunch
Slush on a cold
sunny street

Snow floats
The silent soft
white floor

Gray geese cross
a frosty gray
damp sky.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

I see
my breath, but where
are the birds?

I see
fewer birds
these days.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Mussel shells
poke from the black bay marsh.
Seagulls scan.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

swimming dust
in the light that cracks
the window

Craig Peritz on Haiku Habits

This is a special guest post by my friend Craig Peritz. I haven’t seen him in 20 years, but we recently reconnected on Facebook.

I stop –
The rabbit stirs
alert

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The tractor sits still –
A frozen field
of wheat.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Plastic flutters
In the tree’s
quiet breeze

“Peanuts won’t sprout
in that patch of dirt”
The old man smiles

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

For Barack Obama. Today was my birthday, and I got a new president.

The moon’s low
open orange eye
waits

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Rain
drains down loud everywhere.
Family –

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Yellowstone needs snow.
Snow out there looks wondering.
That’s why I told you.

A special Guest Post by Russell, Age 7, on Haiku Habits

Headlights shine
on puddles, raindrops
bouncing.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

My poodle paws
at puddles. I rarely
get to play.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

(a snow series)

Fresh snow –
Footprints where they
don’t belong.

Fresh snow –
Unknown footprints
cross the yard.

Fresh snow –
A stranger walked through
my backyard.

Fresh snow –
Footprints under
the window.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Fresh snow –
Footprints where they
don’t belong

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

A wave of wind
hits . . . I wait behind
my desk

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Slow night
drive, the passing smell
of steak.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Geese
call, I miss you –
away

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The cold sun
breaks through –
Sinus pain.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

A blue still
night chill – The house
lights flicker.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

I am so
trapped in my small
wet brain.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

I chopped wood
all day. I missed seeing
the butterflies.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The hawk
circles back as the squirrels
bicker.

Hawks
do not care
for haiku.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Inspired by Coming From The Woods and commentary

His coat
is still winter thick – A bear
sniffing berries

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Snowflakes fall
from a sunny sky – We are
improbable.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

A cold wind
so hard my eyes hurt –
Orphaned.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Also made me think of this post –

I Breathe

The wind whipped
Christmas trash down the street
A lobster shell

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

My pup
covered in his first snow
shivers.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Part II of Face in Snow

Black poodle pup
poked his face in snow –
First giggle.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Part I of First Snow

Bulldozers left
behind an abandoned
squirrel’s nest

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Nosing bubblegum
with hints of leather –
Winter Scotch

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

I can’t see
On frozen streets
the sun glares

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Starry street –
Covered in cardboard, he
shivers to sleep

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

In winter,
my dog’s poop steams
briefly.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Brown cattails
under a golden sun.
The hawk hovers.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Seagulls picked at
plastic bags. We belched
Christmas turkey.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Cut trees
in a vacant lot
drying out.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

White birches
stand in winter’s dusk –
Grandfather’s ghost.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Red barn planks
peel, then drop –
The grass grows fast.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Curved hills
covered in clouds
The small of her back

Frozen
sliver of moon
My breath

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Two dogs
calmly nosing the same
smelly spot.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Electric morning blue
over the tops of trees.
The road roars.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Night desert
sky stretches far
between us.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Fingers numb
from freezing rain –
Never learned guitar.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

I squint into
cold, misty rain –
A sailor at sea.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Kennel dogs bark
and jump as a plane
whirls by.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Two planets
hang high in the dusk sky
Distant romance

A rabbit runs,
followed by the shadow
of a hawk.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Burnt wood
in the cold air – A car
door slams.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Dried leaves
tumbling and tapping down
the street.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The hawk spreads
its wings and lifts, mouse
dangling.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Bouncing pup
The master’s
sing-song voice

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Shopper’s market –
That girl has her mother’s
teeth.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Green energy
Algae bloom in the
warm bay

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Nature’s veil –
pond lilies on the water’s
surface.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Seagulls glide
Indifferent
wind

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Bare black
trees stand still against
a dimming dusk sky.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

My poodle delights,
pouncing on his first
sheet of ice.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Near collision –
drivers rage in a warm
winter sun.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Gray rains
mist, abundantly
dull.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Cicadas
patiently await
their day

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Revved motors
echo and swell. Those trees
are now gone.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Smoke rises
off gabled rooftop chimneys.
Winter is long.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

The frozen ground
only hints at cat
urine stink.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Young oak’s
straight shadow in cold light.
Dried leaves cling.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Road kill rabbit –
less shocking than a ripped
dollar bill.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Bright holiday
box store
Candle smells and Santa

A-frame roof
peaks against the
sliding snow.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Sunlight glistens
on frozen asphalt. I
shiver and squint.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

As you may have noticed, I have been experimenting with ways to make this site better as a community forum for the practice of writing haiku poems.

[continue reading…]

A couple argues
about their Christmas lights.
Rain begins to freeze.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Frozen dome
Standing beneath
the cold blue night

A cold breeze cuts
through my woolen cap . . .
I can’t go home.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Darren at TwiTip invited the Twitter community to post Top Ten Must Follow Twitter lists. Here are my suggestions if you want to follow All-Things-Haiku on Twitter.

[continue reading…]

Walmart shoppers
trampled a man to death
Jackals lick their chops

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

In memory of Jdimytai Damour, 34-year-old Walmart employee

Climate control
hum, colleagues argue or
doze

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

All-night cooking
Thanksgiving for all –
My feet are tired.

A special Guest Post by Christine on Haiku Habits

I remain stone
still – this river washes
my body clean.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Wind covered
the acorn a squirrel
left exposed.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

A squirrel left
this acorn among
scattered leaves.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Rains fall.
Endless steps in soggy
cotton socks.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

I pause –
the heavy air on
wet leaves.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Key words and links bring
readers to blogs. They’ll linger
a bit if you bleed.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Poodle pushing through
wet forest leaves, the ground
settles back to rest.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

A warm breeze swirls.
My poodle lifts his nose,
inhaling sky.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

How can Haiku Habits change your life?

I am new to writing haiku poems. I don’t pretend to post great haiku. I want to get better at haiku and through haiku. I want to pay attention, capture the moment, and share. This seems a good remedy for my human condition.

Life in seventeen syllables (or less). At a time.

What do you haiku? Critique, reflect, trash, enjoy! We get better – together.

November wind
swirls through my neighborhood
These thoughts won’t still

Wake up
Where’s your
dog leash?

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Walking empty streets
under a full moon, even
Google can’t find me

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Dripped syrup on
my shirt when multitasking.
I should not wear clothes.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Piles on the ground;
too many leaves have fallen.
They rustle, then rot.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Cricket song
slipping into cold air.
I cannot save them.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits

Rising in silence
Turned and facing forward
in the elevator

Today
I breathe; tomorrow
I bellow.

Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits