amber drops

haiku collection by Liliana Negoi

along the river

a narrow path slithering –

here and there, iced mud

snow on the fir trees –

the hissing scintillation

of the hatchet’s blade

winter’s private stash

of sweet-scented summer dreams –

a frozen rosebud

small is the window

for the cold, silent crescent –

empty, the tea cup

on the rocking chair

grandma’s knitting needles sleep –

near them, a spider

at grandma’s windows

a bunch of mouldy flowers –

no birds in the sky

hanging on the wall

grandfather’s last photo –

dust covering it

snow began to melt –

the magpie soothing its thirst

from the rusty eaves

alone on the road –

in the distance, a white stork

landing in its nest

on the apple bloom

a caterpillar passing –

wedding in the yard

puddles after rain –

a pigeon strolling over

my bathing shadow

broken lily cups

embracing orphan raindrops –

last night storm’s playground

stepping at a run

on the sun in the puddle –

on soles just water

clouds drifting away –

a swallow harvesting mud

to repair its nest

dusk falling swiftly –

caressing the tired hooves

the country road’s dust

spider weaved its web,

but the only catch so far

a shiny dewdrop

peasant with a yoke –

water in the two buckets,

water on his brow

freshly fallen dew –

on the field of red poppies

a million suns

the shadow’s contour –

after a month of raining

the first ray of sun

in the old forest

a woodpecker taps for worms -

far, a semantron

black rosary beads –

the crows aligned on the fence

watch the hearse passing

cold bitter coffee –

newspaper opened at the

obituaries

the chaplain fishing –

his bucket just as empty

as last Sunday’s church

a hole in the fence –

imbuing it with blue sheens

the eye of a child

curtain fluttering –

bravely surfing on its waves

a small ladybug

swift, a butterfly –

in the corner of my eye

a shadow fading

lonely lampion

watching over empty nest –

evening flies swiftly

the jump of a cat –

from the wooden fence flying

just a few feathers

in a dust vortex

red and pink chase each other -

two rose petals swirl

footprints in the sand –

wave by wave the ocean makes

the shore new again

summer sun setting –

the shadow of the house fence

looks like prison bars

sunrise reflected

in a falling drop of sweat –

men harvesting crops

moth-courted lanterns –

looking at his holey hat

a beggar can’t sleep

dawn fills my tea-cup –

yearning for a pair of socks

my toes sip sunlight

raking withered leaves –

from a distant radio

a Requiem flows

writing poetry –

on my fingertips ink drops

of black Muscat must

tender memories

sheltered by chrysanthemums –

too soon they wither

the last plum tree leaf –

it seems only yesterday

flowers graced its arms

a withered vine leaf

scribbled with mud and raindrops -

autumn’s autograph

chippy blue tea-cup -

on fall’s chilly battlefield

a brave warrior

orphan rusty leaves -

waltzing astray in the dusk

the ghost of a tree

riotous sparrows

quarrelling over gobbets -

in the tree, a cat

October morning –

in the naked cherry tree

no more songs today

snow covers the ground –

beyond the sweaty window

poinsettias

grandmother’s stories -

naked apple-pips hiding

in the grandson’s palm

mistletoe-decked hearth –

a widow, over again,

stirring the embers

six in the morning –

the pen, forgotten opened,

ditched for a pencil

on the wooden bridge –

snowflakes like cherry petals

swirling and swirling

soft whirling snowflakes

play in the air around me -

frozen butterflies

the old lake dying –

now i can see the stones thrown

when i was a child