Eiko
Yachimoto - 36 Haiku
Born
in Yokosuka, Japan, on February 14, 1947, Eiko
Yachimoto graduated from Sophia University
in Tokyo (with a Russian language major
and a minor in political science). She also graduated
from the University of Minnesota, earning a
2nd BA in English language and literature in
1982. She works as a writer, translator and/or
a language teacher--sometimes employed, sometimes
as a free-lancer. She has been Vice President
of the Association for International Renku
since
2000. She is married, and is the mother of a 17 year old girl. She has lived
in Yokohama, Sasebo, and Minneapolis, and now lives in Yokosuka.
spring hail-
my senses awakened
in its quiet melting
umbrella handles
all around a huge vase
water warming
Ash Wednesday--
a warbler in the plum
that late neighbor planted
easter potluck--
a man pours himself
the last drops of green tea
Blue Mountain U
opens to the busy street-
the spring of cradles
in-between spring waves
a secret passage to
the sea palace
blossom breeze~
a young shadow sways
on the new concrete
the demolition site-
the sun, the breeze
and falling petals
blossom rain--
the duration before
fingernails dry
audible to me
blossom branches sigh
in the river’s shade
scolded the child into her tears
l look up at the hazy moon ...
gigantic roots
embracing the earth--
the blossom storm
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
from a train braving may -storm
a battleship the weeping ghost
find me
in sky-going green storm
if you may
-in Shiki’s voice
breathing with
blades of green grass--
the tide flows in
a cicada in labor:
‘soft, quiet, green...’
mother-in-law’s voice
morning-glories--
up through the vine climb
the red and the blue
a shaft of light--
cicadas resume chorus
a crybaby stops
Covent Garden:
a cell-phone to a naked drummer
stops live music
night rain cooling the tin roof
four siblings’ quarrel dissolved into sleep
last
night’s creases unfold to the east
dewdrops quiver in asagao*
*asagao or morningface is how we call morning-glory.
blooming smaller
morning-glories seeing off
summer
Muir of Ord Station:
through rosebay willow-herbs
sa-yo-na-ra
a cicada shell
clings to the leaf drooping
in the drizzle
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September the first-
faint red of begonia buds
in elephant-ear leaves
new coolness--
each facet of green pine cone
faintly brown
AA hospital:
waving towards tilting pines
long blades of grass*
*called susuki, o Japanese pampas grass
sifted through the keyaki leaves
platinum particles the famous moon
neighbor’s
baby
gone back to sleep--
echoes of crickets
a shrinking puddle:
my face against
deep autumn clouds
four
o’clocks,
why my mother losing
memories...
swallowing
the relativity of physics
tonight’s moon
led me to falling sazanqua
in Blyth’s graveyard
November steps
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
beach walk--
dream dusts dance
in the first light
Martin Luther King Day--
battleships turn feminine
in sunrise yellow
ferry crossing --
an old daffodil valley
beckons
~compiled by eiko yachimoto
31 August 2003
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