Posted by: Bruce Proctor | September 27, 2014

Bruce’s haiku: August/September 2014

August 2014

a single man in
a passenger-side seat sees
a different world.

four kayaks resting
in the lee side of the point
gather their resolve.

it leaps from the bay,
flops, wriggles, re-enters
with a great SPLASH!

all the sails out there
are white; one by one they now
emerge in sunlight.

whispering treetops
remind me of feathers
brushing together.

the sailboat race–
interweaving back and forth
stately as a ballet.

from a quarter mile
off, across the quiet bay:
their conversation.

I see various
water textures. What more in
them do sailors see?

September 2014

heron wings skimming
the surface of the water
never quite touch it.

on top of water
ducks are birds; under it, they
resume being fish.

when my friend Bob talks
of the things he loves
he becomes a poet.

After Labor Day
the sun is too hot,
the shade too cold; sunlit waves
are shivering too.

sun-speckled waves
streaming west so want to be
the starry night sky!

the black loon too is
almost lost in the dazzle
of sun-speckled waves.

the sailboats are all
almost gone; lobster buoys
still dot the water.

from around the Point
without the slightest warning
slides a galleon.

every six hours
the land rises; the next six
it all falls again.

I often feel that
this is an unlikely day
for a good haiku.

in an autumn breeze
falling leaves and butterflies
sometimes get confused.

vast pre-dawn silence
of the bay, filled far and wide
by one small boat motor.

a lobster boat darts
from buoy to buoy,
like a hummingbird.



  1. Beautiful. Brings me back to some wonderful memories of being with your parents and visiting the beaches there in Maine. Bless you.

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