sushi restaurant
a Polish waiter offers
Norwegian salmon

starry sky—
the aftertaste of iron
on my bitten tongue

empty café
a cool breeze leafs through
the dessert menu

thick stump
an ant crosses the growth rings
into my childhood

warm evening:
between Venus and me
the scent of lilac

farewell
the shape of wind
in her hair

leaden sky
the sharp angle
of the swallow’s turn

night after the storm
moonlit waves caress
a dead starfish

twilight
the shadows
overshadowed

garden sundial—
the gnomon supports
a spider’s web

jazz concert—
the guitar catches light beams
through the solo

the milky way—
her deep lifeline leads
my fingertip

starry sky—
the aftertaste of iron
on my bitten tongue

midsummer night—
a cricket’s chirping before
during and after

empty café
a cool breeze leafs through
the dessert menu

string of tail lights
the Great Bear
still ahead

thick stump
an ant crosses the growth rings
into my childhood

windy beach
a small boy struggles
with the dragon kite

grey dawn—
under the windscreen wiper a leaflet of
Eden of Bliss

frosty morning
I can see her parting
I love you

crowdedbus—
onthebendeverybody
tiltsthesameway

heart of the city
the clouded sky glides across
a glass office block

park in bud
a pregnant woman
strokes her belly

summer dusk
the sun-warmed field cools off
with the scent of hay

park alley
an autumn drizzle muffles
the rustle of leaves

lonely evening
two raindrops run down the pane
as one

fabulous full moon—
and I was not to write
about it again

night of Perseids
already the first, second, third
mosquito bite

Warsaw night skyline
a tower crane’s jib supports
the rising full moon

warm evening:
between Venus and me
the scent of lilac

midsummer night
a hedgehog crosses the street
on a red light

dog days—
on the road mender’s arm
a sweaty dragon

into the bus
and downtown—
cherry petal

catching my breath
from a deep vale,
the roaring of a tractor

a churchyard oak—
at my granny’s grave,
a squirrel and I

lightning in the sky
the sound of drumming
from an upturned bucket

sea of poppies
each blast of wind
followed by a wave

path in the forest
out of the mist,
woodpecker’s knock

frosty morning
the tips of pine needles
sparkle with ice drops

empty veranda
a touch of frost caught
in the dreamcatcher

biting cold
the Milky Way
even milkier

ripe pomegranate
the depth of its redness
makes a squirrel freeze

clatter’s gone
the stork’s nest
catches leaves

geese honking
each puff of piercing wind
gives me goosebumps

mushroom picking
doesn’t this woodpecker
have a headache?

autumn wind
the shadow of a willow
sweeps the fallen leaves

posh café
the first bite of the plum cake
sends me back home

grandpa’s orchard
the old apple tree
leans on the ladder

brand new house
still so far away
from home

childhood drawing
the dream house still better
than the real one

sudden downpour
everything around
speeds up

m sty orcha d
the fr sh ap le pie
la ks some slic s

THE TEXTURE OF WINTER

through the reflection
of my face in the pane
city lights

cold wind
the empty teacup
still warm

midwinter — the FULL MOON fails to fill the e m p t i n e s s

how come that fullness
is shorter than emptiness
endless evening

old photo
the kiss that stopped
the snowflakes

empty church
richness in the flutter
of sparrow wings

full moon her dress on the floor empty

sunlit market square
the passers-by shape
a flock of pigeons

farewell
the shape of wind
in her hair

low footbridge
a pond skater
crosses my face

leaden sky
the sharp angle
of the swallow’s turn

grasshopper’s leap
the chrysanthemum’s head
nods for a while

stars and crickets
twinkling slower
than chirping

first snow
the struggle to recall
last night’s dream

THE SENSES OF AUTUMN

unhurried stroll
the touch of gossamer
on the forehead

long afternoon
the sound of a nutcracker
in silence

harvest moon
the smell of apple pie
in the whole house

bonfire ring
the view of sparks
among stars

silk bedding
the taste of plums
on her fingertips

autumn stillness
the fleeting sense
of déjà vu

dog days
a puffy cauliflower
grows in the sky

early spring
the melted snowman
reflects the sky

the frog’s croak
much softer—
stork in flight

foggy morning
the chirping of sparrows
in the crownless trees

park in bloom
a pair of teenagers
on every bench

late spring
the snowman’s hat
fits the scarecrow

waveless sea
the sun sets
into itself

couple in the pub
they both strip off
the beer labels

fireworks’ booms
a deaf couple
signs wishes

grandpa’s orchard
the old apple tree
leans on the ladder

abandoned garden
a blooming rose bush
shades the molehill

a churchyard oak—
at my granny’s grave,
a squirrel and I

through the reflection
of my face in the pane
city lights

cross on the peak
so many names
were here

catching my breath
from a deep vale,
the roaring of a tractor

oak in bloom
the torn obituary
flaps in the wind

lightning in the sky
the sound of drumming
from an upturned bucket

path in the forest
out of the mist,
woodpecker’s knock

sea of poppies
each blast of wind
followed by a wave

high winter
a leafless tree
in rook bud

cloudy night
I make a wish
anyway

fresh snow
I lose the rhythm
of someone’s footprints

autumn showers
a crowd of umbrellas
at the doctor’s

sky in the puddle
instead of cumuli
fallen leaves

forest pathway
the tractor’s tyreprint
full of tadpoles

Empty car park
needless plastic bag
whirls with leaves

a sugar crystal
walks away with the ant—
morning coffee

wooden footbridge
the urge to free a stick
from an eddy

mist after the rain
the swollen current
swings the willow’s twigs

ONE SUMMER DAY

a sugar crystal
walks away with the ant—
morning coffee

scorching sun
the asphalt creeps
under the soles

cool shower
the heated pavement
steams

double rainbow
not a single soul
to share it with

a puff of wind
tickles the feet—
evening drink

2005

New Year’s Day
dogs walk
masters

tick-
say cheese!
-tack

time change
the clock on the wall
still hangs in winter

the last jar
of raspberry juice
first bee

silence at the peak
my left ear
rings

no inspiration
the longest haiku line
just before the end

hangover
yesterday’s pizza
wants to get out

cleaning
her letters
still fragrant

indian summer
the smell of candyfloss
before they leave

mist-covered trees
the morning shift of birds
overslept

yad thgirb
I
sedahsrorrim reh ni

New Year’s Eve
all the taxi lines
still engaged