Morning Haiku and Waka – December 18, 2014

Brenda from A Meditative Journey with Saldage for the “One Four Photo Challenge” created a lovely photograph for her third edit … a close-up of a single leave caught in dry grass, which I hope you will go and see.  It is so serene and I told her so … she replied thus:

after one day
among people
one leaf left

Such a beautiful hokku/haiku to renga and so right for her photograph! Truly inspirational!

after one day
among people
one leaf left

© Issa

passing through the fields
freezing snow flakes fall

winter whispers
a leaf in pampas grass

 G.s.k. ‘14

Would anyone care to join in the renga?

Linked also to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai for Ghost Writer # 38 Winter Grasses

The Old Woman – Choka – December 3, 2014



it is early dawn …
walking under the lamp lights
with only her thoughts
goes the old woman
fighting her insomnia
and her loneliness –
she visits her husband’s grave
or walks alone in the park –

the clock strikes half-four
the metal gate of her house
opens moaning
the ticking of her cane
fills the morning streets –
today mixed with cold rain,
the factory siren
calling morning workers
a lonely centaur
streaking down a street … roaring –

the first whiffs of smoke
fill the air mixed with rain drops
here on my loggia
I watch her passing slowly
every morning before dawn.

(c) G.s.k. ’14

Jen from Blog it or Lose it is Ghost Writer at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai … today she’s introduced the “film noir” genre … what is noir … here’s a few lines of explanation:

· Driving at night … in the rain;
· Dark, shadowy, smoky rooms with venetian blind shadows;
· People in trench coats standing alone in the fog … or on a pier … or in an alley … or a street corner … or in some sort of awkward, lonely, vulnerable position.


I’m afraid that I’m not much of a mystery writer … I’ve really got to be in a particular mood for that lovely genre … but I do observe the night … well let’s say the hours just before dawn … as most who follow my blog already know.  So I wrote a choka about the lady who passes under my house almost every morning – throughout the year, no matter what the weather.