n g

                i 

             w

           s

         p

the u

promising so much

...disappointment

hedge shears swish camphor

Christmas Day

the stream of coloured envelopes

stops

that there —

was my grandfather’s house

...or was it that one?

Boxing Day

re-cycling bins

brimful

New Year’s Eve

deleting dead relatives

from my phone

I have to admit a strong - but unintended - similarity to:

new year's day
deleting the dead
from my address book

(c) Wendy C. Bialek
01/01/2000

new year's day
deleting the dead
from my cellphone

(c) Wendy C. Bialek
01/01/2011

new year's day
deleting the dead
from my Facebook page

(c) Wendy C. Bialek
01/01/2017

new year's day
deleting the dead
from my iphone


(c) Wendy C. Bialek
01/01/2014

bandit moon

holding my attention

to ransom

with its long nose

I would have called it

the smelliphant

the limp windsock

mentally adding viagra

to the shopping list

human misery

arriving

by the boatload

Nativity scene

the face of Jesus

cracked and broken

though her smoke

I see

the No Smoking sign

drinking beer

the Spanish family

with the guitar

the old couple

with no words

left between them

Published (2019) All the way home: aging in haiku page 295

Blithe Spirit arrives
preparing
for a haiku binge

I catch myself
staring at her cleavage
silicone valley

the queue moves forward
but the man in front of me
leaves behind a fart

on a winter field
long morning trees
stretch out

morning train
joyfully
racing its shadow

with my favourite pen
writing haiku

my childhood globe
less pink
than it used to be

dish towels and dressing gowns

missing

the Nativity play

mid-semester break

on the windowsill

one more toothbrush

a half moon

waxing

...or is it waning?

cat pawprints

in snow

ending in bloodstains

****

bloodstained snow

only the cat

survived

flashback

my father

coming home from work

always

where I don’t want him to be

the beggar in the steps

frosty morning

jogging

my nose runs too

Christmas morning

sepia tinted walk

winter landscape

buildings

I’d forgotten

Christmas cards

again
one more than I sent

Christmas tree

with blinking lights

once again...and again

oh Christmas tree

you died

for me

first offer of a seat
refused...
am I that old?

Arlington
even in death
some more famous than others

bag for life?

at my age

it probably will be

in a mass grave

young soldiers

final gathering

old soldiers
finding less
to talk about

Christmas morning
recalling the effort
my parents made

degrees of freedom
the things
unsaid

cozy in bed
hearing my wife
scrape the windscreen

Published (2019) in Failed Haiku Volume 4, Issue 38, page 10

Living Haiku Anthology

post office queue
the smell
of paper

Published (2019) in Failed Haiku Volume 4, Issue 38, page 10

Living Senryu Anthology

Living Haiku Anthology

the Christmas market
smells
of Germany