magpies darting here and there
the moon
at every turn
beneath exploding
pinks and blues
Harry’s bursting run
bitter night Ball bundles his catch
full moon –
we have their forwards
surrounded
Toovey arrives
at a moment unafraid
of his limitations
brief eclipse –
Didak shakes
his shadow loose
full moon Beams in space
winter night
Cloke lines up
my toes curl
Swans broken –
the cabernet’s tannins
soften
Rob Scott (aka Haiku Bob) is a peripatetic haiku poet who calls Victoria Park home. He writes haiku in between teaching whisky and drinking English, or something like that.
Rob,
it wasn’t Swan that was broken from the Cabinet tanning it was Rudd’s hide if I remember correctly.
Sorry to be so condescending to such fine work.
Phantom
HB
I imagine a lunar eclipse is ideal material insofar as your genre is concerned.
jth
my car doesn’t have a sunroof.
it has a moon roof.
eclipse –
no matter where they go
Presti’s shadow
HB
I also enjoyed the phenomenon of a wine seeming to improve as the game progressed. Shiraz, rather than Cabernet, but remarkable nonetheless.
Had the Swans prevailed would that have effected the whine.