gave us bubbling sparks
with soap
and (flower) puddles

when we were outside,
        the  sun  
and the wind
blew                   everything

we could smell where we were,
the heat plated our skin
in sweat but we couldn’t figure out
if it was us, or the precipitation
of popped bubbles  

we ate popsicles and Freezies flavoured;
strawberries and raspberries 
and vanilla
                   pavement dawdled in
               leaking drips
and    rainbow puddles,  

we knew it was summer 
from the length of our strides. 


When Everything is Over 

When Everything is Over – Collected Haikus 

If the sun were out
we would dance among the rays,
dandelion fluffs

The sky is deepened
the sun is gone with rain drops
a rainbow for us

If the world was gone
we would be pirates in space
the stars our bounty

Let’s land on the moon
sing for the sun and maybe
burn into soft ash

In a way this world
is headed for a one way
stop to destruction

It all comes to end
swirling clouds and hurricane
the sun comes lightly

The world is gone when
tomorrow hits and then we
can sleep well for once



Another collected bunch of haikus from different days of different weeks of different months all surprisingly having somewhat similar threads. Really, I’m not sure how that managed to happen.

When Winter Strikes

Roads close and windows freeze across our street with the frost of breaths matching the bus shelter as we huddle together, the seething snow blistering onto the glass as cars thrash through losing exhaust smoke into the atmosphere mixing with our clouds leering out from the horizon where we stare and then we see the bus crawling towards us and the crowd cheers, we look at each other with softened eyes and then the bus rolls by as it was already full.


Describing Anthropocene


In our: white flowers, purple petals, drifting spring cherry blossoms blooming by the birch bristling away at the wind with branches beneath the purple petals, poking from their broken limbs we see that the days have gotten a little longer.


There’s a grove by our home that’s now alone, surrounded by paved roads and the smog that flows around its brittle branches slowly dampen the soil in leaking exhaust. We spend our weekend afternoons doing recreational cleanup, the homeless gathering with stained rugs and cups of lukewarm coffee, stale bread from the bakery (given to shoo them away) and when they see a passing couple, or flash-stained tourists they tell us, and we thank them, and we pick up pieces of plastic, or forgotten ticket stubs, and when the wind blows with the grass we all stop to watch it all dance.


 I buried a time capsule under the oak tree in our yard, and when we had to leave that home I’d forgotten all about it. I’d only remembered when I saw a group of boys burying their own capsule by the park near our new home, years later. I asked my parents if they knew our old address, and they told me. But when I went to see if it was still there, the oak tree was cut down. Someone walked by and I asked if they lived in the area, and they said yes, and so I asked if they knew about the oak tree that used to brim in the sky. They told me it was probably because it seemed to take up too much space.

Last year it snowed, brightly, in shades of bristling shining white. This year, as well. It’ll snow with long nights, and we’ll all say how much we hate the snow, the cold. We’ll shiver when the strong breeze comes for us unexpectedly and we’ll all laugh at how much our teeth chatter and when we go out we’ll know it’s cold when our breaths form in short clouds and the ground follows us as well. Next year, as well.

Haiku Practice


Solstice in December

The seed I planted
sifts in the soil alone
unseen till winter

The sun breaks morning
cloud cover imitates night
we sleep to evening

Light drizzles wake us
you shift in sheets dust flutters
our roof cracks and creaks

Summer smog lingers
till the end of winter and
spring and fall wither

Disappearing breaths
flutter with cigarette smoke
the lasting snow warm

Sun beams race through snow
a bird flies without the draft
feathers lost in flakes

You knew where I was
in the hem of a blooming
street hidden in rain

A broken streetlamp
looms with shattered light sparkles
capturing the moon

The reflection of
fogged windows shine lightly with
the glimmer of you

Snow angels appear
a deer strides in town then gone
blossoming snow drops

I just wanted to slap a title onto it so I named this practice set “Solstice in December” which I actually like as a title, maybe I’ll nab it for something else. Either way, I’ve been getting into Haiku recently/less recently now, but I’ve also been writing my own and collected some of the more similarly themed ones here.

Describing Bioluminescence


We huddled together, a broken lighter between the three of us. Anya’s hair crept towards her face, but no matter how many times I swept them through my fingers, they always raced down. River giggled every time this exchange happened, and eventually I did too.  Between our laughs, our breaths formed tight clouds that wrapped together, and then, as we stopped, we all looked back at the broken lighter.


Huddling close to her chest I heard every beat, lulling in quarter note thumps I counted each one on her breaths. When she spoke, the beats grew faster, half note trills beating closer to her blood. And when I responded and when she listened they slowed to whole notes, stagnating by her throat as she cleared to find new words. When there was nothing to say, the tiny beeps beeped to fill the space around us in staccato floats.


A small child walked up to him, watching his mouth as the cigarette erupted in a small burning light, and faded in the same time, a cloud coming to hide its radiance. The man watched the child watch him, and he puffed another cloud, the burning light caught by the child’s eyes, and he raised his hands to hold it but the man slapped his palms away, and told him it was dangerous. The child asked why he held something so dangerous with him then, and he said in a low voice that it made him feel safe.


Under the sky, the sun held us together. Do you remember? The rays of warmth wrapped around us softly. That sunset amber painted our skin, our fingers, and in the slight gaps we left, the breeze came to silk our skin, and looking down at where our pulses intertwined it was all afterglow.