autumn blast
the stadium rocks
with every goal
dry leaves
Fasolo provides
the spark
twirling leaves ~
handball after handball
turns them inside out
winter nears ~
the shadow of the grandstand
reaches the other wing
gaps in branches threading holes in their defence
the thrum
of the magpie’s wings ~
Howe takes flight
Autumn dusk ~
the beanpole catches
what light there is
bare trees the stadium echoes the winning goal
About rob scott
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.
Magnificent HB, but I have no idea what you’re on about!
the beanpole catches
what light there is
One of your best HB.
Inspired stuff HB. Like JD love those lines. Pies turning over new leaves rather than the ball.