Anger rose within
Gall, ire’s yellow blossom –
Spring bouquet of thorns

 

 

For Frank’s Haikai Challenge

Winter nest in grill
Hibachi dreams of springtime –
Hibari toasty

 

 

For Frank’s Haikai Challenge

Winter hawks its wares
Ice and cold flash their talons –
Snowbirds fleeing south

 

 

For Frank’s Haikai Challenge

After college, I spent a few years traveling around Europe, picking up work here and there. In one such adventure, I worked in a shelter for homeless East End London youths. This was back when Docklands still had bombed out buildings from the Blitz and Cockney was what you heard in the streets.

I volunteered for the Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day shifts. It would just be me and about a dozen teenagers who were runaways or who had been tossed out by their parents. They had been living under bridges or worse, and the shelter gave them a place to stay until we could “get them sorted.”

Breakfast and dinner both were beans and toast. Every day, day after day. There was one smallish gas oven/stove, and one pan to heat the beans. You can guess where this is going… Correct!  With no cooking experience whatsoever, I went out and bought a huge turkey and all the fixings so I could make the kids a proper Christmas dinner.

My ability to grossly underestimate a situation is a hallmark of my life, and one of the things my friends and family say makes me so endearing.

Dinner a bit late
Turkey rolling on the floor –
Hilarious stuff

 

 

For Frank’s Haikai Challenge

Crème-de-Menthe snow cones
Feel green after too many –
Ever falling down

 

 

For Frank’s Haikai Challenge

Winter dead ahead –
November raises white flag
Rain surrenders frost

 

For Frank’s Haikai Challenge

Pine needles give way
Holiday feast of rain, mud –
Thankful for new boots

 

 

For Frank’s Haikai Challenge

Our Armistice now –
Fields of crosses row on row
Yet the poppies blow

 

*With apologies to “In Flanders Fields”

For Frank’s Haikai Challenge

Not a soul about –
Saints and sinners come to naught
Story of our lives

 

For Frank’s Haikai Challenge

Hollow evening sky
Churchyards empty under moon –
All souls feel unrest

 

 

For Frank’s Haikai Challenge