Today is also ending--
at the bottom of the snowstorm
the gigantic sun


squabble with sparrows
garden feeders
the willow
leafy fingers on yellow twigs
raindrop prisms
on the windowpane
the cat's tail, wagging
luminary night-
after caroling I practice
my runway walk

(WHA- 95-th haiga contest)

Happy Holidays!
drinks can
rolling along the tarmac
plastic bags fly
gilds the tips of house roofs
unclaimed apples


My second book of poems, Haiku and Tanka Harvest, has just been published. Copy and paste the URL below for its location or visit my haikuharvest blog.
howling wind
picks up puddled rain
huddled dogs
willow branches
whipped by howling winds
my straggly hair
post box
festively red
my cheeks
first winter day -
touching up a haiku
of last summer


premier jour d'hiver -
retouchant un haïku
de l'été dernier
pale sun swims through clouds
promise of snow
highways threaded with silvered chrome
willow leaves
shiver in the north wind
an old man's collie

Bleary orange sun 
pries back dawn's gummy eyelid 
Winter morning fog
last year's russets
on the tree in the garden
two blackbirds
hang from a cherry branch
river seeds
behind gloom-laden clouds
homeward starlings
may it be
a flock flying south--no,
'tis a snow crew
..(C)2011 Spiros Zafiris
..channeled; spirit Ram

those squeals of laughter
each bed bounce higher
April in december

I used to believe
that our lives would unfold
like rose petals

the sinking sun
pulls down the sky
revealing darkness
The sound of waves

Nothing changed after two months as I step my feet back in the sand of Nanganesa beach. 
They are there where they were; the cliff, the trees and fishing boats. The sky, too. Don't they move just a little somewhere?

Nothing changed. But this nothingness.


the sound
of waves—

the sound
of wave
slick with frozen rain
bloodied hands
overnight frost
turns the street white
morning rain
dog ventures out
the catflap rattles
biting wind
frigid morning
my breath beats me
to the car
fishes in the pond
sluggish in the cold wind
my scarf wrapped tightly
lacework of mist
rolls down through dark pines
my breath rippling morning's first tea
bluetit  -
amongst the icicles
a bright patch
in a storm cloud, indigo sky
cold ground
an open grave
in the cemetery
the dog
splashing in puddles
backlit clouds
more weaving through ice patches
--need not wish for winter
..(C)2011 Spiros Zafiris
..channeled; spirit Ram
frosted windows
the coppiced willow
remains green
crackling morning
new grass shoots
surrounded by hoar frost
a crow calls
outside the bathroom window
misty rain
two full moons
rising - double glazed from an
upper window
the wind drops
skeletal trees become clam
rain drips
evening commute
full moon hides
within the tree branches
grey clouds
reflected in pavement puddles
sullen children
horizontal trees
in the gale force winds
huddled schoolchildren
willow still has leaves
despite the biting wind
fuchsia drops
crow shadows
reflected in wet roofs
sullen clouds
shards of winter
tentatively fall
eaten by rain
headscarfed old lady
bent against the wind
willow still clutches her leaves
sodden leaves
resist the chilling wind
sullen crows
chill wind
the street deserted
rolling cola can

good advice
the cutback thistles
bloom again

two crows cackle
outside the window
a scared cat