Why Coo?
1999-2000


I discovered the Shiki Haiku Salon late in 1999. Once I joined shiki, I learned that haiku was much more involved than I had ever dreamed possible.

This page contains my earliest attempts at haiku that use the juxtaposition of two images to recreate the “AHA” moment.

Many of the haiku on this page use a central pivotal image to provide the juxtaposition. I've since come to see this as a gimmick, but I was quite taken with it during this period.

My style evolved quickly during this time, as I learned what juxtaposition is and how it can (and can't) be used to good effect. By mid-2000, I was collaborating on several renku projects. The renku-inspired haiku are more stylized than most of my earlier or later work.

The background image for this page is an arashi shibori fabric hand-dyed by yours truly. “Arashi” means “wind-driven rain” in Japanese.


November 1999


indian summer
red poison oak climbs
the bare trees


redwood needles
trickling to the ground
a thin rain


thin mist gathers
over the mountains
the sunset blurs


upturned spout
the last drops ripple
my teacup


a well of stars
trees breathe in the night
damp leaves underfoot


gnats catch fall thermals
sun plays over the strands of
windblown spiderwebs


empty hand
grasping at nothing
look! a pebble


corn and oysters
on the harvest table
family elbows


raindrops
on the skylight
splatters


winter swarm
blackbirds wheel over
berry fields


five days of rain
clothes on the drying rack
damp to the touch


the room's reflection
hides the night
acorn husk


grass shoots
poke holes in the sunshine
smell of rain


thin ice
creaking underfoot
winter sunshine


sweeping out cobwebs
a cold draught
wind after rain


January 2000


the fevered child's brow
the scent of slate rock
baking in the sun


flu season
tea so tasteless
i might as well drink hay


flu season
the laughing four-year-old starts coughing


cough medicine
the flowing fountain on the hearth


november's end
a straggling storm cloud
steams over the sun


rain drips from the eaves
fingers drum on the keyboard
heater vents rattle


shooting baskets
a fresh cast on his broken wrist


raindrops on spruce needles
the running shower
fogs the window


mid-december
tiny mushrooms in the compost


wet starless night
a smiling moon shines
on her umbrella.


at the lighting
of the town tree
the smell of woodsmoke.


dusk
finding the path in the space between treetops


breaking pumpkins
bounce down the hill
horse skips out of the way

tasting a pumpkin
the horse's whiskers twitch



cresting new year's wave
breaks over the hushed planet
we wait and watch

australia, japan, europe
world war one echo
"the thin gray line, does it hold?"

all quiet
as midnight rolls over the atlantic

in flanders,
do the poppies still bloom red?



almost empty
pouring the last cup
the teapot gurgles


whirring fan
trickling fountain
humming child


cloudy sky
billows of woodsmoke
drift sideways



February 2000


cumulonimbus
gusts blow the redwood needles
backwards


cloud-watching
a view of the waves
from the bottom of the ocean


bare feet
the cold concrete of the laundry room floor


fourteen-inch rainstorm
eating brownies
hot from the pan


satin pillow
against my lips
the baby's cheek


i can't remember
the name of that flower
forget-me-not


gray scale
the distant treetops
against the clouds


scrubbed sky
swallows swoop above the greening hills


down the window
raindrops blur the raindrops outside


cheek to cheek
the adorable baby
pulls my hair


rain streaks
a child in underpants with an umbrella


rainy afternoon
clusters of maple seeds
droop their brown wings


March 2000


drained duck pond
county workers hose off the duck poop

drained duck pond
a lone koi flops in a puddle

drained duck pond
coots gabble on new grass

drained duck pond
the rich smell of algae

drained duck pond
a bucket of duck eggs

drained duck pond
a bright-haired boy holds a red umbrella

drained duck pond
the river heron squats under a tree

drained duck pond
river ducks nest in the reeds



square of sunshine
rocks from the train tracks
on the wood floor


unruffled by the breeze
new maple leaves stand stiffly
red fans folded


spring sunshine
the pink glow of the flesh
where toes touch


equinox sunset
a pastel wash on the face
of the rising moon


dyeing easter eggs
moon rabbit scatters beauty
on the greening earth


yellow violets
the bright hair of the children
playing in the sun


April 2000


spring shower
his towel slides down
to his hip


april shower
the toddler looks
pleased with himself


splashes of cream
dogwood in bloom
along the bend in the highway


scurrying mouse
the barn door squeaks


crunching almonds
biting through the veined husk
to get to the meat


blustery spring day
the children's quarrels
lost among the gusts


backlit raindrops
on the black iron fence
blackbird fluffs her feathers


raindrops on the pine needles
three swallows flutter by


cloudburst
an apple tree rains petals
on the asphalt

treeburst
raindrops knock the petals
off the apple tree



sleepless night
a new tooth
in the baby's smile


spring has sprung
the old armchair sags
under its own weight


second nature
dodging the potholes
that were fixed yesterday


wind-blown sunshine
spring-cleaning the shadows
in the oak tree


blinking back tears
sunlit raindrops on
the swaying redwood frond


only the moment
        haiku


haiku
attentive to this moment
i smile


candlestick park
the witch wind blew the giants
downtown


noon feeding flight
the finches gather more seed
their feathers unpreened


spotlight
filtered sunlight
on the redwood suckers


three days past easter
an undyed egg in the shadows
of the fruit basket


May 2000


moon shadows
the leaves of the oak
whisper lullabyes


slice of canteloupe
savoring
the heat of your lips


twilight
pools of lupine
in the deep meadow grass


may dawn
a green singing finch
dead on the aviary floor


manna from heaven
the jay in the tree
drops a hamburger bun


high bridge
the soundless splashes
of dropped stones


hot morning
the shadows of her lace parasol
on her tie-dyed shirt


birdsong
the rush of the river
over stones


mercury rising
slipping in the sand
each grain burns my foot


spring afternoon
the leaf shadow spreads
on the pond


learning to walk
not quite ready to let go
of the door frame


bird in flight
the heavy boots of the child
on the swing


[A series of takes on a break in a storm]

may thunderstorm
a hole in the clouds
leaks sunshine

thunderstorm
a downpour of sunshine through
a gap in the clouds

thunderstorm
sunshine drenches
rain-wet trees

thunderstorm
a downpour of brightness
between the clouds

thunderstorm
the spent clouds start leaking
sunshine

sun shower
a flood of sunshine follows
the spring storm


June 2000


how deep
the silence
between the words


shaking out crumbs
the smell of rain
on asphalt


breakfast of champions
she pours maple syrup on
her pancakes


summer blaze
the tobacconist's
goes up in smoke


fourth of july
a cottonwood blizzard
on the picnic


heat wave
the pulse of pain in
a sinus headache


the thin stream twists
from one teapot to another
morning oolong


spent tea leaves
the scent of almonds
and cinnamon


pungent ice-box
gray fuzz on the strawberries


no fog
long shadows on the grass


July 2000


summer solstice
frosting from his first birthday cake
on his chin


dry morning
dust
in the water bucket


cool puddle
a tadpole
in a jar

hot pavement
a tadpole
in a jar


summer house
the gate chain half-buried
in leaf mould


chocolate layer cake
tiny fingerprints
in the frosting


the scrub brush
circles the dirty plate
summer solstice


trombone solo
raindrops add a B natural
to the score

ode to joy
raindrops contribute
the grace notes


rising sun
the baby sits up in bed
and crows


August 2000


peach blossom
the toddler cradles
his doll


three grains of rice
the mouse scurries
to its hole


empty playground
a squirrel buries nuts
in the sand


empty teacup
the laundry basket
overflows


petty theft
he takes a bite
of her poached egg


midnight dusk
a dark blue sky full of
faded stars


back porch campout
the tall trees darker than
the summer sky


compost bin
volunteer potatoes grow
through the slats


untidy shelf
a stack of books waiting
to be put away


shady deck
two naked boys
turn on the hose


almost dusk
the quarrel of children
in the treehouse


dust devil
an owl spreads his wings
on an old saguaro


track meet
three squirrels race
to the picnic table


late afternoon
a gnat lands
on her eyelid


sacked out
a morning's worth of dirt
on the toddler's overalls


tilted fence
layers of shadows
on the ivy


crow hop
a bird in blue
patrols the campground


lockdown
the stellers jay eyes
the ice chest


October 2000


late summer river
water skimmer shadows row
across the pebbles


forced march
a woman in blue shorts
goes to the restroom


erosion
a flattened possom
in the road


south wind
leaf shadows scatter
across the tree trunk


open suitcase
she reads the oncology report
backwards


swift river
speckled fish swim
in place


clouds darken
gusts blow the first leaves
from the maple

les nuages assombrent
les premieres feuilles de l'erable
soufflees par rafales


autumn twilight
an algebra book open
on the couch


autumn mist
the squirrel's tail
bushier


steamy bathtub
the freshly washed toddler
dunks his doll


sunday afternoon
the skill saw drowns out
the birds


all the lonely people
the modem lights blink off


hawk's cry
the stellers jay closes
its beak

[Stellers jays imitate the cries of redtail hawks to intimidate birds and other small animals.]


December 2000


tree shadows
coyote song echoes
against the moon


hunter's moon
the torn flesh of a pomegranate


lightning strike
the small boy pounces
on a cookie


scent of autumn
the first bite of an apple
crunchy and sweet


untended garden
a child crouches to watch
a spider


first cold snap
opening a new box
of tissues


push broom
a ridge of golden leaves
on the asphalt


sand shower
the black cat opens
one green eye


toes in the sand
the small boy draws patterns
with a stick


autumn wind
a crooked oak branch
in the maple


raking the roof
a drift of walnut leaves hides
the station wagon


october wind
the baby drops the leaf
again


foggy night
the bridge lights tie the city
to the shore


all hallows eve
green glitter glue
on the carpet


bearded iris
the hues of the iguana's skin
in sunlight


rosebud on the vine
the new baby suckles
at his mother's breast


casket flowers
the refrigerated body
wears a smile


hazel fronds sway
a soft rain darkens
the path


autumn deepens
redwood needles blanket
the fir stump


fallen oak branch
tufts of spanish moss fill
the hollows


wind storm
a swirl of fir needles falls
from the oak


republican moon
the hole in the guillotine
where you put your neck

[I recently read that the French populace called the hole in the guillotine "la lune republicaine" during the French Revolution. Shine atop the gallows, O Republican Moon!]


abandoned dredge
the wattle-and-daub nest
of osprey


Heather's Modern Haiku Page


Copyright © 1996-2002 by Heather Madrone . All rights reserved.