Sights of the City Haiku

Boston winter night—
streetlight caught in the glass rim
of a sun-catcher.

Dark birds float to a
bare tree. Underneath pages
of newspaper blow.

A young man reads poems
by Lorca on the train, lips
moving, body still.

Sky of milk and slate—
the sails below are whiter,
the river bluer.

Vs of geese fly east
across a violet sky, haze
above the wet earth.

My pages ruffle,
and the willow grows pale leaves.
They also ruffle.

T-shirt heat. Black-haired
boy’s block-print tattoo fills his
forearm: FORGIVEN.

Early autumn day.
Bronze beads pepper a bench from
a broken earring.

Blue sidewalk. Lights of
table candles tremble their
small constellation.

—Lin A. Nulman