Haiku
The sea appears calm,
wild feeding frenzy below
life and death drama
Tanka
Mother lies calmly
tolerant of the wild squeals
of her hungry young
I admire her expression,
her eyes closed, she gently snores
Haibun
I reach up to the heavy, wrought-iron latch and and pull down slowly. Resting my shoulder against the dark-timbered door it swings slowly inward. I stumble in and almost fall over the rounded footworn edge of the granite threshold. To my left a wooden settle where I flop, water dripping from my sodden clothing. A feeling of calm pervades after the wild rush of the storm raging outside.
polished brown benches,
tall curving, whitewashed columns
give sanctuary
When the pen takes control. 