Heat : Haiku Poetry

HEAT

It's a still night, TV off, crickets, grandkids out of my hair, dog's passed out. The third bourbon kicks in. I work the mood for memories... all the false starts... false mates... steamy years of cultivated urbanity... that small jazz club on 4th Street... packed with Saturday-nighters, where I'm grooving and flirting until the jukebox dies and the musicians step up to the platform, lead off with Lazy Bird; as the audience goes silent, sweating and riveted to each note; as the gleam of the saxophone fills the air with a pulsing mystery, and my love of jazz and crowded rooms expands, holds me there for that one-hour set; as the night waits outside to fold me back into the dark wings of the city.

I sit a while. The ice melts in my glass. I study the flea-bitten arm of the recliner, rise and pick a paperback from the pile on the floor, coyotes howling in the canyon near the small desert town I have come to.

reading Issa
I mark my place
with a dollar bill

Contemporary Haibun Online, June, 2009

Issa, one of the most beloved Japanese haiku poets, led a life of poverty and simplicity. He often wrote poems to spiders and fleas, the humble creatures of the earth.

This is a HAIBUN poem, an old Japanese form where a section of poetic prose is followed by a haiku. Some of you may already know that modern English language haiku are no longer written in strict 5-7-5 syllabics. (It takes fewer syllables in English to say the same thing in Japanese, so 17 is often too long to fit the compact spirit of haiku.).

Originally Posted On Site: 2009-12-05 11:41:57
Last Login: 03.02.10

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