White Brick Cheese Gift: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku Lament

Remember that smooth/

white brick I’d bring you? Now that/

you don’t read, I won’t.

Remember that sharp/

cheddar I’d bring you? Now that/

you don’t read, I won’t.

Apollo Through Frosted Window Panes: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

At the last sunrise,/
I find I have no words to/
express window frost.
OR
At the last sunrise,/
words can’t express Apollo’s/
window frost beauty.

Her request to stay/
in touch won’t mean much when she’s/
out on a late date.

It’s early morning./
The sun/
sleeps in./

In this winter farmland,/
he,/
lazy like me,/
has not yet shucked
his blanket.

But the moon,/
bright,/
woman-full
and luscious,/
works her way/
through cold/
spindly/
cottonwood-maple-willow/
tree fingers./

They reach skyward
to cup her/
and hold her/
and uphold her/
longer/
until Apollo/
can wake up.

I spied her tonight/
Hovering over a white/
And black frozen site.

Freedom of choice means/

I can turn off Neil Diamond/

whenever I want.

This year’s already/
better than last year was. We’ve/
become acquainted.

After the pain of/
arctic blasts, hot boiled shrimp smells/
and feels delicious.

I keep birds alive./
They make me happy as they/
gather at feeders.
AND

It’s easy to forget
the simple pleasure
of watching birds
at the winter windows,
hopping,
chirping,
feeding,
as we keep them alive.

She’s trying to get/
back to a normal pattern/
of sleep. Where is love?