“Seven Haiku” by John Brehm

John Brehm


     coming unstitched—
even the fake flowers
     grow old
      the pain is still there
weeping willow
      my father cut down
      regretting something I said 
I turn the lampshade 
      to hide the seam
     scattered crocuses 
as if someone had planted 
      cold spring morning—
close the window
      or listen to the warbler?
      not so different
veined spring leaf
      and my ancient hand
      fifty years ago: seeds
before that, nothing—
      oak trees outside my window  

from Rattle #81, Fall 2023


John Brehm: “I write poetry for many reasons: to get beyond what I think I know, to pay attention, to experience flow states of consciousness, to delight in the music and texture of language, to connect with something larger and more mysterious than myself, to remember my true nature. But mostly I do it for the money.” (web)

Rattle Logo