May Song
for Marina Bonomi
Joanna Preston
 

This time of year the moon is a smudge in the sky above bare trees, as though it were an afterthought, a mark left on the blue from something that isn't there anymore. And May is gold and ruby, platinum and diamond. Frost curling the edge of the air. The rolling crunch of acorns underfoot. The gutters and footpaths heaped with the season's discarded wrappers, their colours stolen from the sunset. Blackbirds singing praise from every chimney-pot. As though we were blind, as though we hadn't noticed.

autumn gust –
a swirl of leaves stopped
by the traffic lights

Joanna Preston's haiku and haibun have been published widely. She is currently editing the New Zealand Poetry Society's 2008 Competition anthology. Her next project is an anthology of Australian and New Zealand haibun, edited with Jeffrey Harpeng. She lives in suburban Christchurch with seven chickens and an understanding husband.

Copyright 2008: Simply Haiku