Wye

seventeen wye river haiku philip harvey wrote in december 2014

no haiku is solid as the footbridge straight over the sunned river

haiku is not the word we use to explain the moment of haiku

emptiness no word none can describe even in a useless haiku

right now the blue satin bowerbird collects a blue satin haiku

science rushes through the inlet on four wheels missing bushland haiku

nothing’s more fun than making up crazy haiku near no-one will read

the haiku of the sink after dinner, so many unfinished thoughts

nighttime scrabble K on triple letter score makes haiku out of ha

at night tiny house lights shine but not one haiku forces from my mind

empty beach empty road at sunrise on empty sea a haiku ship

light enlivens every limit free of haiku’s fixed monotony

kookaburra syllables name the sound as haiku frogs pobblebonk

sounds from a passing vehicle reach the car, something like a haiku

direct contact haiku: scribbly bark, banksia fibre, planed timber …

the haiku of sea condensation hits windows in streaming droplets

what do cockatoos screeching decades care for men and their haiku books?

only from lower haiku ranges may we view impassable peaks