Lunch On A Quiet Day At Work

The Nero d'Avola from Sicily,
Black as squid ink,
Smelled of bananas and olives,
And tasted like chocolate coffee.
Sent me soaring over
The wet rooftops of London,

Out across the English Channel,
And over the Mediterranean Sea,
Where the sun drew a picture
As rich as a cornfield.

Autumn Haiku

Autumn's foolish gold,
You crackle your warning -
I shall not tread here again.

The Hotel Sibir in Novosibirsk

Just perhaps they need a Vegas-style crooner

In the Hotel Sibir,
To fill the empty stage

With woe and chanson.

The rest of her misty days passing

In a mirage of vodka

And cold herring.

Cream Puff

Cream puff
whipped up a storm
in the local newspaper.
Last seen going out to sea
on a raft of orange
reeds.