POEMS OF DAVID WILEY     


FOUR 

AMERICAN 

HAIKUS 

 

The sun opens a pine come and

out tumbles the dark seed blinking. 

 

On the mountain the snow grows thin

as the stream grows fat. 

 

Ten thousand leaves fall

and I only have two eyes. 

 

At the bottom of the pond

minnows hide from something

ninety-three million miles away.  

 

 


All images and text copyrighted.  All rights reserved.    Copyright 2002 David Wiley.