Haiku 3

Rocky North Sea Beach

Sunday picnic, throwing stones–

We who have no sins.


Saint Mary’s lighthouse

first lit, 1080 A.D.

now just a shadow


Left side driving: Yikes!

everyone’s going wrong way–

three back seat drivers.


Wrong end of the stick*

Roman latrines– no T.P.

Thank God for Charmin


*Romans had sponge on end of stick.



Sunrise, seagulls soar

quiet sun room with coffee

eyes close, heart opens


three men’s urinals

etiquette: choose left or right

(urinal feng shui)


Roman fort ruins

stones show how fleeting life is

grass grows green with rain


Market down in dumps

Panic on Wall Street. Yikes! Yikes!

Bright, rich, morning stroll.


“Play croquet with us?”

Gracious gentleman, big grin.

day takes wicket turn.


Double deckers pass,

drivers wave to each other

grinless routine waves


Small girls play hopscotch

Durham Cathedral floor tiles

Holy Communion.


Lush secret garden

800 year old cottage

still lived in. Deep roots.


Prince Bishop’s Castle

peasant’s small hovel. Which one

smiles more, coming home?


Red two-decker bus–

we sit top level, front seats:

old friends, new wheels, grins.


Slow, un-tourist day

Our English cottage, garden

books, tea, wash some clothes.



The Honorable Bede

dead now for twelve hundred years

votive, 60 pence.


Children’s evening shouts

down the lane, beyond the wall

I sip my spirits


Robert Burns’ last home–

Scotland’s poet laureate

old lang seine, old bard.


Poets day: Bob Burns

We visit Scotland to learn:

Wives help poets sing.


Evening dog races

Full moon. Smallest bet: one pound.

Race eight: Our dog wins!


My mind is troubled.

Nothing new. Mind is trouble.

Dark bird in dark sky,


English countryside

Path through the woods by the stream.

Picnic in backpack.


Cloudy day church bells.

Centuries of days like this.

Flowers bloom. Dove coos.



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