The Art of Haiku
| ON FUERTEVENTURA |
| There are no seasons here. Having been whisked out of winter and into summer for some time I find myself at a loss for words. |
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a ginger cat among the purple petals evening shade |
| The lunar eclipse. Watching the brightness turn a dull red in the clearest of skies, full of stars, there seems to be nothing to say. |
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the evening star and the moon together in deep blue distances can be deceptive |
| The land is mostly barren and bleak, dust and rock. |
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in the hollow of a dune — seedlings |
| A precious few spots of rain fall from a cloud that melts away in minutes. |
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evening haze — a rainbow over the malpais ¹ |
| In El Cotillo there is an internet cafe. Its own web site, like much of the town, is under construction. It promises some kind of contact, but connections fail. |
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missing our arguments on the future of haiku the wind in the palms ² |
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Notes — ¹ malpais: The badlands — areas of barren volcanic lava rock. ² with apologies to Brian Tasker. |
| ALISON WILLIAMS |
