light on

the spider that wasn’t there

is still there

 saxophone 

between the trees 

in the rain

 after

in the mirror 

a seagull’s legs

 at the top

of a lifetime of scree

fog

the leaf raft of life

in the riptide of the past

disintegrates

walking

through the houses of the past

so many fools

that one song

takes me back to you 

sing it again

 autumn

has got the wind up 

visiting cat

 slowly

like that fallen tree 

we transduce 

the powerful signal

of a lifetime

 as the moon sinks

so the moon rises

frog pond

 autumn stocktaking

my followers are falling

leaves in the wind

 predawn

waiting for the shadows

to darken light

 a path he walks

to dispel apathy

he strolls on

 rain

can i 

yes you can

shall i 

or

 the light

that was in a chopped tree

lays heavily

 autumn funeral

well i ask you!

brown leaves

 end of the pier

when time finally runs out

you are an island

 when it’s raining

walk in the rain

think of the rain

when it’s raining

swim in the rain

think of the rain

 conurbation

deep in the latin quarter

a sunflower

 torrential rain

i stop swimming and look up

opening my arms

 his top hat is not

big enough for the vomit

of the electorate

 they moved the chairs

while the world was burning

so that we could watch

 sea swim

the smell of bacon butties

from surfside cafe

 tomorrow 

will be the day after

all this

 a support group

for people who think they don’t need

a support group 

 apple pips

i flick an orchard

into a field

 heavy rain

back from an afternoon walk

we were lucky 

 sitting in the castle 

listening to the flag dragon

hot autumn wind

 autumn

the slow slipping over

fingers on dew

the leaves fluttering 

down down down

 it is history

water under the bridge

silt in the delta

 dusk settles

the self-delusion of a day’s

just deserts

 haiku 

in the failing light

flash

oh gosh 

it is wet now

dusk

and with that

the dusk fades my eyes

and the trees

the cherry blossom

with its leaves falling

is on fire

the rolling up

of the many layered woods

by the owl night

 questionnaire 

all about writing haiku

infinite answers

 the fall

of memory 

leaves

 across the atlantic

the boat named autumn leaves

starboard light

 darker

and darker and darker

red evening 

 vicissitude 

after a rough swim

i woke up

 pearly dusk

the soup is simmering

red leaves fall

 rough sea

choosing which wave

to dive under

 the sun moves

different shadows talk

of the year’s turning

 espresso 

small cup makes a big haiku

psychoactive 

 eating grapes

at three cliffs bay

Indian summer 

 writing poetry

the rubbish cart’s lights flashing

suggest a redraft 

 a light out at sea

undecided tides of thought

happy or sad

 i can see the wind

in everything but the wind

i can hear the wind

can the wind hear the wind

can the wind see itself

 apple leaves fall

chrysanthemums flowers 

all is yellow

 12.4 hours

the clock gene of the ocean

is in my blood

 sunset

screwing my eyes

pond bottom

 getting drunk 

after throwing three double tops

in the osborne 

 daddy

sailing leaf boats

under the bridge

 low sun

the watering can days

are over

 a wild sea

diving under the waves

riding the swell

finding the rhythm 

of myself

 holding the stone

i become a splash

decision

 shortening 

the wasp and spider days 

of rotting apples

 an apple

bouncing off the greenhouse 

rolled across the lawn

 finders keepers

turning over a new leaf 

a new leaf

 shadows on the throw

the cat and the sunshine

walk on parts

 stone buddha 

greening slowly in the rain

shortening days

 poetry 

slowly turning pages

in the park

 leaf fall

on the scaffold of autumn’s 

tumbrel

 after the storm

a fallen chair’s silence

damp garden 

 white is soft

white is hard

a lone voice sings

 morning pussy cat

i am back in the land of 

the dying

 autumn leaves

chasing the poets

around in circles

 the past is all hooks

 scrolling my timeline

i have written five poems

the glory that is roam

 one just once

the exhilaration 

of a leaf in flight

 expletive deleted

casts the first stone

****

 a badger moon

after a night of rain

revelation

 suddenly 

where once there was a thought

a poem

 after heavy rain

the big pool soon drains away

all my worries 

 autumn rain

the cherry tree is turning

black sky

 tea and scones

entering the spider days

falling leaves

 a spider

being a spider

is still there

 before the ceremony 

there is the ceremony 

of preparation 

 mass extinction

who is building the ark

book me a seat

 falling leaves

many languages

same message

 the leaves are falling

surely we are one of them

blowing hot and cold

 mutually 

on a wet afternoon 

falling leaves 

 um? um? um? um?

cat at a rainy door

maybe tomorrow 

 arms up my sleeves

now both hands are warm again

rain window

 bracing swim

wearing winter vests again

the year turns 

 the flow of words

undulations of the tide 

left high and dry

 they think they

are erecting the fence

from the inside

 darkness

am i inside this prison

or outside

 old age

bouncing along the bottom 

above a waterfall 

 dogs bark

god’s caravan parses

ships sink

 storms

the feral cat’s breakfast 

half in claws

 castles in the air

looking up at that sand dune

aching legs

 sudden commotion 

from all the gulls and crows

a kestrel

 pantomime 

oh no it isn’t 

oh yes it is   ‘nt

 that instant when

the higher centres censor

sleeps remiss 

for such is the essence of

a haiku writer in full flow

 whatever 

there may be no tomorrow 

always go

the lunatic 

trying to catch the slow wink

of the monthly moon

 shipping forecast 

have i ever been been

occasionally moderate

 annoying floater

drifting down my spectacles 

a wee spider!

 plum tree

the leaves are falling

tight buds

 the clown’s trunk

the elephant in the room

holding a tale

 the nettles

have eaten the path

another year passes

 strange the bank of life

it seems the more you take out

more interest there in

 rustle rustle

the pheasant leaves

a feather 

 childhood

brambling blackberries 

ladybird nettles

 the tide

not at the height i prefer

doesn’t care

rough sea

i fear the dangerous rip

it doesn’t fear me

 it’s not the seascape

or the mountain skies

it’s the walker

 dawn

petting the cat

soft music

 in the rain

moss on the stone buddha 

growing awareness 

 strutting on horseback

the dictator nears the cliff

breaths are held

 a spam email

offers me a branded lanyard

i take the poem

 epidemic effect

seeing the dahlias

as coronaviruses 

 the moon

from behind a cloud

freezes a tree

autumn

in the lobelia

fungi

 autumn

evicting the cranefly 

into the rain

 white haired

lobelia in the rain

such a thin smile

 such a privilege

to watch the last leaves falling 

in autumn’s boudoir 

 snowfield

like those fossilised footprints 

i am the first

 they say it was

you say it may be

i say i am

 a shower

like the windfalls of summer

suddenly stops

 in translation 

the poem speaks a language

i understand 

 rustle rising

a grey wind turns golden

in the corn field

 above the wild sea

a particle physicist is reading

it’s a small world

 on the marsh path

a dragonfly a cock pheasant 

and two snail men 

 tap tap tap

on the morning barometer 

pleas

 egret

slowly slowly flows

our river

 many steps

leading up to the temple

each one a prayer

 october

cobble stones drying

begonia glowing 

 the radiation 

clicking like my knees

counts dawn

 aches and pains

more me than me

these days

shrieking with laughter

the sea oils my joints

 the sea is arguing on the playground of the rocks 

 we write rubbish 

in the midden of the past

it turns to gold

 nowadays

i need an ancient shrine

to question

to tell all my fears to

to get absolution 

 how sweet

the last plum of summer

october sunshine

 neighbours ~ i ask you 

not an inch of our apple tree

hangs over their fence

 laughter

the sea is giggling and spluttering 

with me

 look to see

if a stone has a hole

through it 

 rain

on the doorstep

having to

  was the one

the one who climbed lampposts 

old bruises blues

 speeding

up a one way street

a sparrow hawk 

 red geraniums 

the wheel’s come off their barrow 

neighbour’s ornament

 cock pheasant

how close may i come

before

pacing

a cloud’s shadow 

along the beach 

 shut tight

barnacles on a rock

at low water

 a purr

as long as the cat’s tail

after breakfast

 rain

trees dripping

on me