Poem on Sunday: Haiku (hike-oo) from the Camino de Santiago

Julie Brominicks

1)

Him with the black hat,
Hola and gruff nod, washing
his boots in Basque rain

2)

Just these horses now,
where bear and bison bones call
from underground caves

3)

They sing their love songs;
corn buntings. Ripe and plump as
the moon that brought frost

4)

Fumbling for her phone;
so cold the nun’s hands as she
shares us on Facebook!

5)

The sky was ragged
as stork feathers the day
we heard the hoopoe

6)

Pigeons occupy
one of the straggly stork nests.
Is this not a coup?

7)

On wooden chairs
in a wooden bar we eat from
paper tablecloths

8)

Some six hundred grapes
in each bottle, so like us
the vines sleep it off

9)

I think about them
the ones left behind; friends, the
French girl, and the dead

10)

Eating up the klicks
Tip-tip tapping of the sticks
Driving is for dicks

11)

To feel sad like this
while flocking petals presume
to float like snow

12)

From inside the church

bird anthems are heard and a
tractor spreading prayers

13)

Beneath our feet are
small ants and in line behind
some tiny pilgrims

14)

At the journey’s end
I looked up and saw a gull
showing me the way