Haiku by Zee Zahava at Mann Library February 2015 

*

striking the brass bell
so many yesterdays
begin this way

*

a volume of Issa’s poems
open before me
still my mind wanders

*

i could hold a pen for a year
and not find
the poem of you

*

cardinal
thank you for reminding me
to be surprised

*

good morning purple flower
i don’t know your name
i will call you Ahhhhhhhhh

*

sister crow
my only regret —
i never invited you for tea

*

the distance between us
i’ll draw the map
you color it in

*

once there was a frog
who fell in love with the moon —
i am that frog

*

second-hand quilt
no memories
no comfort

*

a twist of tissue
grandmother’s bookmark
between War and Peace

*

spring moon
the way you kiss
each bud awake

*

blue morning
a hole in the basket
where a cloud slips through

*

dear moon
i forgot to look at you last night —
did you see me?

*

pouring tea
into my favorite cup
rain fills a river

*

artist friend
in your open window
a bouquet of colored pencils

*

catching spring rain
in my cupped hands
no reflection in this shallow pond

*

in full bloom
my neighbor’s winter garden
plastic flowers

*

inside the abandoned typewriter
a poem
wakes up

*

reading your face
my fingers trace a line
between two age spots

*

waking from a dream
i cry out for my sister
the crow also cries

*

moon
why do you follow me?
i am lost

*

bowing to the setting sun
my shadow
walks into the sea

*

mother picks a dandelion
to wear in her hair
she calls this gardening

*

friends bring me feathers
but i don’t
fly away

*

rubbing my finger
down the book’s spine
dust from before i was born

*

sipping tea
no thoughts
no ceremony

*

old year
new year
the cat sleeps

*

in the meantime
a year passes
her blue shawl unravels

-Zee Zahava 

 “everyday is a journey and the journey itself is home”  ~ Basho