from Our Backs To the Wind
_____________________________________
whatever
the rain decides
the river takes
near the mountain top —
the wind doesn't stay
on the path
another day of rain
not even stepping over
the puddles now
holding up the snowfall
the park bench
in her memory
squeezing
into our universe
cherry blossoms
New Year's day
the party hat not made
to stay on
yard sale—
a bookmark
falls out
the somewhere else
of this summer night —
the firefly in her glass jar
Dad's funeral —
the same knot
in my tie
in both hands —
the water she carries
from the ocean
another room
the song she sings
to herself
_____________________
Gary Hotham
Our Backs To the Wind
selected haiku
Brooks Books 2025
