Tag Archives: father

Jan30

 
 
 

Old, bent with sorrows,
 
my father found ways to laugh,
 
even in winter.

Apr3

 
 
 

Gloomy spring morning—
 
from my father’s old white cup,
 
I sip black coffee.

Oct15

 
 
 

Clutching umbrellas,
 
a father and daughter walk
 
in the autumn rain.

Sep20

 
 
 

summer evensong—
 
sipping tea from the same cup
 
my father sipped from

Aug15

 
 
 

My father’s ashes
 
still rest in a plastic bag—
 
sixteen summers gone.

Dec15

 
 
 

A slow winter rain
 
washes away every trace
 
of my father’s name.

May18

 
 
 

Waning crescent moon,
 
my father never taught me
 
how to love the dark.

Jan15

 
 
 

With every haiku
 
I invoke my father’s name,
 
gone fifteen winters.

Jan3

 
 
 

The same waxing moon
 
that comforted my father
 
shines to comfort me.

Aug15

 
 

Midsummer journey—
 
if my father had a grave,
 
I’d bring one red rose.