Thursday, December 4, 2014

New York City haiku, vol. 4

More haiku from Gotham, with apologies to William Carlos Williams for (guess which) one. Also two of these rise from a new strain about people we’ve met.

*
Atop the cold city
spikes of light meet dead of night,
heaven’s icicles.

Magda fled Poland
the day the Nazis came. Why?
‘Dad read newspapers.’

*
Climbed the subway stair
at Times Square. Looked right, then left.
This way east, no, west.

*
Everything depends
on a red boat in dawn’s mist
on the blue Hudson.

*
Roman busts a bore?
No, no! She looked, took names, shook
old Rome back to life.

*
Even here, where race
matters least, eye avoided eye
after Ferguson.

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