playing on the beach
the wave chases him
back to his mother
her notebooks full
of empty space
In the old conservatory water splashes from the top of the red brick fountain to the blue hydrangeas and white lilies below. I skip along the path in my patent leather shoes and Easter bonnet. The pink and yellow orchids tangle in Spanish moss. A cactus snakes past a saguaro and ancient pipes - hyacinths and tulips line the Palm Court. Banana plants touch the glass ceiling. The lily pond reflects a thousand panes in deep blue sky . . .
on thin ice
Susan Beth Furst
I am honored to have my haiku and haibun appear in Blithe Spirit, Volume 27, Number 3. Thank you Editor Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy, I am grateful.
I watch my dad on the sidewalk in front of the church. He gives an old man a twenty-dollar bill.
The Pastor asks him why he would give a twenty-dollar bill to an old bum. He will just spend it
on booze, he says.
Because he needs it, my dad says.
The old man takes the money from my dad’s hand, mumbles his thanks, and shuffles down the street
to the corner bar.
I stand on the steps of Mt. Zion Evangelical Lutheran Church in my blue buttoned dress and mary-janes. My father looks up and smiles. I run into the Sanctuary to save him a seat, to the pew in the back, the one we sit in every Sunday, the one with all the scratches.
for his mother
the neighbor’s bare trees
William Paul Remy August 18, 1927 – April 15, 2017
A Journal of English Senryu
Volume 2, Issue 21
Susan Beth Furst is a poet, author, painter, and photographer. She loves to write haiku and she Loves to tell people about Jesus.