Some haikus from my collection of poetry – The Red Petticoat.

Be still; half-close your

eyes, and listen to the sound

of the universe.


My hands kneading dough

become your hands in cloudy

puffs of wheaten flour.


Fragile spider’s web –

its silken, silver threads a

charnel house of flies.


A slimy, silver

trail across my balcony –

well, snails must live too.


My face against the

grass, I smell the fecund earth,

watch the insects creep.


A homeless man called

out – today I did not eat

a wail of anguish.


Baisteach, boladh móin,

i bhfad ó Rann na Feirste,

cumha ar mo chroí.


Magpies black and white,

machine gun clatter chatter,

strut across the grass.



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