Haiku, Senryu, And Stuff

The Sun Rose
A golden bloom of
summer sun rose, then softly
climbed over us.

A rock
is nothing
but wait.

Waiting in the wood
the crisp bark of my dark dog
grows thick round me.

Turning home after
many long years, my old heart
it will lead the way.

Kitchen faucet drips
enough to wear a sinkhole
in a thousand years.

This wide man
sails past in
a billowy shirt.

Summer is one long
barefoot moment, toes stained green
as a miracle.

Puritan thought left
a lingering resentment
of my two elbows.

Whenever I think
of you I find I cannot
remember.

One long spring whistle
tucks in fresh earthworms and pulls
trees straight from the earth.

Ruby, gold, and sea
glass fill a window, telling
stories to a home.

Melting under hot
suns, rich golden buttercups
fatten the slow hill.

Wide-eyed and surprised
by its birth today, one wee
daisy is dazed.

You swam in the sea
of me. Now we part, ever
in our salty skins.

Under and over
twelve circles round the face
time repeats itself.

Sunny is the friend
with yellow eyes and a quick
melt disposition.

Seasoned maple greens
chilled aflame
leaves a red-hot fire.