Fish in the Snow – December 15, 2017

Floating Fish in the snow

Winter came early for us in the Lake Valley of southern Trentino.  Because of the Lake Garda’s microclimate we usually only see snow around mid January, if then.  The other morning the sky was heavy and what looked like fog was actually snowfall.  It snowed the whole day through changing our autumn suddenly into winter.  As I looked out towards the courtyard in front of my house, my fish wind chime began to tinkle and I imagined a world with floating fish.

cold grey morning sky
first flakes fall
ice crystals
softly blur my world from sight
hills of snow – growing

Silence grows
as snow flakes gather
humdrum scenes
into something new – special
never seen before

In that morn
of cold December
in silence
a fish floated in the snow
outside my window.

gsk ’17





Magnolias – Haibun – April 27, 2016

Magnolia Blossoms - June 2, 2014

Magnolia Blossoms – June 2, 2014

For a month on Carpe Diem Haiku Kai, we were often asked to write about magnolias in one form or another.  As often happens with prompts born either with Japanese season words or from a country that has nothing to do with Italian culture and climate, one can either invent or write about something else. With 210 types of magnolias (I’m presuming both bushes and trees) throughout the planet, there’s no surprise that the colours vary … but also the period of the year when they flower.  We must presume that the Hapsburgs had a form of magnolia planted in the 1800s in Arco’s lanes and parks which flowers later than those in Holland!

flower-less lane
Arco’s magnolias bloom
in May sunshine

© G.s.k. ‘16

Carpe Diem #963 Magnolia

Sunday Whirl and NaPoWriMo – Haiku and Tanka – April 10, 2016


wintry last stands
where talk ends and hope is born
rain drips on blossoms

the river flows
tales under the surface
call to us
concentric circle shimmers
as a trout eat mosquitoes.

© G.s.k. ‘16


NaPoWriMo: Day 10 – Smorgasbord Sunday

Assistenza al Pubblico (Assistance to the Public) – Haibun – December 18, 2015


The dark

Chiusa in un silenzio nato dallo sconforto, rifletto sulla natura umana. Ognuno in realtà, malgrado sia nato in una comunità, ragiona e cammina come un’entità, solo.

Inutile parlare di solidarietà.  Raramente, per quanto esprimiamo i buoni sentimenti, andiamo oltre il nostro comodo, i nostri sentimenti ed i nostri bisogni.

Quando succede, e succede prima o poi, che abbiamo bisogno di chi ci stia vicino, perché ci troviamo proiettati in un mare sconosciuto, quelli designati per aiutarci non solo non ci aiutano, ma ci creano ulteriori sconforti. Questo non perché le persone siano cattive o senza cuore, no. E’ perché sono esseri umani, pieni di buoni sentimenti certo, ma impregnati dei propri bisogni, a tal punto da non accorgersi di quanta sofferenza creano a quelle persone che si sono ripromessi di assistere.

Ognuno in realtà, malgrado sia nato in una comunità, ragiona e cammina come un’entità, solo …

quest’alba d’inverno
una lacrima

© G.s.k. ‘15

Closed in my silence, born from discouragement, I reflect on human nature.  Each one of us, though born in a community, thinks and walks alone, a single entity.

It’s useless to talk about solidarity.  Usually, for all that we talk and express these warm feelings, we rarely go beyond our own comfort, sentiments or needs.

When it happens and it happens sooner or later,  that we need someone near, because we find ourselves projected into uncharted waters, those designated to help us, not only do not help, but create further suffering.  This is not because these persons are bad or heartless, no, it’s because they’re human beings, certainly full of good feelings, but brimming with their own needs to such a point that they are unaware of the suffering they create to those whom they’ve promised to assist.

Closed in my silence, born of discouragement, I reflect on human nature.  Each one of us, though born in a community, thinks and walks alone, a single entity.

this winter dawn
a tear

© G.s.k. ‘15

Carpe Diem Special #187 Georgia’s 3rd, a haibun “idyllic spring”

A Ripe Strawberry – Haibun – November 18, 2015

four seasons_small framed

Walking along the blossoming fields in a spring dawn, enjoying the singing forests of the masts in the port in summer, a carpet of coloured leaves on green in autumn and the stark beauty of sleeping trees and snow in winter, which season is my favourite?

Each has its beauty and each its detractor;  the clammy rains of spring, the sweltering heat of summer, the melancholy feeling of the end in autumn, the bone chilling cold of winter.  Which do I dislike the most?

Like the man hanging from a branch over a fatal fall with a tiger waiting above to eat him enjoys the beauty of a strawberry … so do I.

the passing seasons
each moment of life precious
a ripe strawberry

© G.s.k. ‘15

Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille November 18th … Spring is Coming

Morning Waka and Haiku – November 16, 2015

Mori, Trentino

Mori (TN)

here in Padua
morning sounds reverberate
with my heartbeat
preparing to return home
a gull passes overhead

saying adieu
the sun rises in the fog
coffee pot bubbles
persimmon tree full of birds
just Brynn and I watch them

like the Silk Road
beckoning to the traveller
it’s time to leave
returning home from the east
the mountains call to me

© G.s.k. ‘15

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

A Single Tree – Haiku – November 11, 2015

a single tree

a single tree
alone on the mountain stands
misty sunset

© G.s.k. ‘15

This is an attempt to use the “yugen” haiku writing technique … for more information on the technique click HERE.  An example which I enjoyed very much was written by Chèvrefeuille:

from a treetop
emptiness dropped down
in a cicada shell
the soothing sound of spring rain
makes the silence stronger  

© Chèvrefeuille

Basho Encore #10 a bush warbler – July 31, 2015

uguisu no kasa otoshi taru tsubaki kana

a bush warbler
has dropped his hat
a camellia

© Matsuo Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

a cuckoo
changing the program
TV antenna

Cuckoos usually never come down into the valley here in Bolognano, but it’s been a rather strange summer, not only did a cuckoo sit on the antenna just off my back terrace this summer, serenading us for about half an hour, but we also saw a hawk with its chick perched on an antenna.  I wonder what Basho would have written if he’d lived in our age.

two hawks
visiting the village

© G.s.k. ‘15


Written for :Carpe Diem’s On The Trail With Basho Encore #10 a bush warbler

Morning Haiku and Waka – January 15, 2015


Bamboo wind chimes

summer wind
daily playing in the valley
dancing trees and grass


summer wind
blows off the lake at noon-time
cool siesta

daily playing in the valley
Garda’s wind-song
whispering rhapsody

dancing trees and grass
bow and sway from noon to dusk
lords and ladies

© G.s.k. ‘15

Written for Carpe Diem Haiku Kai Special # 127

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