If the tidal swell of human emotion Could stop this world from turning, It would’ve done so on the day The sands of his hourglass Drifted wholly into the deep. The clocks would’ve held back their tick for him, The moon stock still in waxing crescent ever more, The sun, somewhere setting, somewhere rising, eternal,…


Jonah had plenty of time. Time boxed in days, labelled for Dr Black and Reverend Green. Time to breath and think about that time when a Doctor and a Priest chased him over fallow fields straight down the gullet of this giant fish. Don’t think too much, Jonah.


Pines plaintively sway, silhouetted by the moon. Easterly mountain, topped with snowy fringed bonnet, weeping waterfalls enough to flow bitter streams into ponds, bereft, where Koy wish for something more and my old reflection sighs. Ripples twist my face into strange mementos of my wildly grown youth carved by Time’s keen Katana and tattered by…

Morning Haiku – 45

Lustred star dwindles, Tarnished by time and fatigue, Each point sadly blunt.


When do I begin? Where I heard the wolf howl? If all at once laughter escaped the twisting dawn, If in reflected midnight sunsets a secret touch is felt will dark fingertips journey? Soft everything. A red blue calls and the forgotten city remembered hurries still. Will I forget to remember the sleeping memory shadow?