Peter Newton

For Now

Whatever dream was coming in for a landing crashed on approach. I open my eyes, get out of bed and head for the kitchen to make coffee. By the sound of the impact the bird probably did not survive. Outside, a mockingbird is flying back and forth between two branches. A nervous flight that proves my suspicion. Another bird is lying on the grass below the window where a single downy feather is stuck to the glass—a tiny wind gauge. I scoop the dead thing up with a dustpan, think about where to bury it and opt for the brush pile out back. The dark feathers stand out against the sun-faded beige of fallen oak leaves. It’s a quiet place. Sacred in its stillness. Without thinking I say sorry, this is just for now and go back inside my glass house.

a field mouse
in the watering can
fall begins

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About the Author

Peter Newton is the author of several books in the Japanese short form traditions of haiku, haibun, and tan renga. His newest book of haiku is The Space We Open To (Red Moon Press, 2020).