Morning folks,
A couple of spring/summer haiku…

Tremble
Desiccated strands
Of husk-dry wheat. Wind-trembled,
Fizzing under sun.
Continue reading “Tremble and Tendril | Haiku”Morning folks,
A couple of spring/summer haiku…

Tremble
Desiccated strands
Of husk-dry wheat. Wind-trembled,
Fizzing under sun.
Continue reading “Tremble and Tendril | Haiku”In the ribboned fog of a February daybreak, dog barks stilt strangely in the dank air. Hoar frost clings to raw-fingered branches and to the tortured holly. What leaves are left from autumn’s mulch sit skeleton and crisp, drifted in between tree roots or huddled at the entrances to abandoned setts. Clouds scud over the lightening sky, looking upon their skulking brethren clinging to the dells and corries below. A time for paperboys and farmers, milk floats and commuters huddled bitter at some rural bus stop. The sensible stay put – the foxes in their underground fugues, the hares in frozen, clod-circled forms.
Continue reading “In the Ribboned Fog | Poetry”Morning folks,
a couple of blustery haiku today, as Autumn has well and truly arrived…

Heave
Heaving, hissing trees
Writhe and cling on to their leaves
Early Autumn winds.
Read more: Heave and Harry | Haiku
Harry
Mackerel sky skates
Over hill and into dell
Gleam harried by gust.
*Thanks for reading, folks. Images courtesy of Rawpixel and Wikipedia. My recent short stories include ‘Cooks Matches, Lentils, and Sofa Stuffing‘ and ‘Snatched‘.
Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, Idle Ink, The Wild Word, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com and tweets at https://twitter.com/mjrichardso0
Morning folks,
an evening walk in Ayrshire, Scotland generated these two haiku…

Rosehips
Warm winds rustle, through
Dry, fragrant September brush.
Rosehips hang heavy.
Continue reading “Rosehip and Reach | Haiku”Morning folks,
This was going to be a couple of drought-themed haiku, but in the end I thought a refreshing one to finish was more palatable.
‘Breccia’ is a haiku based on the Flannan Isles off the west coast of Scotland, a notoriously difficult place to land a boat and the setting for a mysterious disappearance in 1900. I’ve just finished ‘The Lighthouse: The Mystery of the Eilean Mor Lighthouse Keepers’ by Keith McCloskey – an excellent book on the subject if you are interested in reading more.

Bake
Riverbed, tarmac,
Ray-baked, dust-choked munro path.
Cringing under sun.

Breccia
Foam-licked breccia teeth
Sheathed, and unsheathed as boats approach.
Steps rise to safety.
*Thanks for reading, folks. Images courtesy of Chris Downer and Wikipedia. My recent short stories include ‘The Road‘ and ‘A Kind of Magic‘.
Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, Idle Ink, The Wild Word, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com and tweets at https://twitter.com/mjrichardso0
Morning folks,
A couple of subterranean haiku this morning…

Silt
Clod-clad, darkness-swamped.
Reaching though clay, silt, and sand.
Root ball unclasping.
Continue reading “Silt and Stilled | Haiku”Today’s haiku offerings were heavily influenced by a rather wild walk in the Kilpatrick hills, north of Glasgow a couple of days ago. The wind was courtesy of Storm Malik, and ensured that the first part of the hike was carried out at a 45-degree angle!
Continue reading “Heather and Hollow | Haiku”White signposts pockmarked brown.
Grass sprung from tyre-trodden tracks.
Impotent cartography on shifting green and umber –
Urban creep, crawling back.
From corset-clad, rocks,
Overhanging
gossamer roads,
To drystone walls riven
With lichen and slate-shifting press of green.
The village-hemmed-in.
The trees canopied,
Foliage fingered across
Quivering telephone wires and fading contrails.
Concrete hauteur and mono-blocked pomp –
Temporal veneers over
Heave of hill, over
Relentless nudge of slender white root.
What hold county border
And matchstick boundary fence
On ragged geese skeins
Or paw-padded range of wolf?
Fragile castings
Atop grinding earth, beneath broiling sky.
*Thanks for reading, folks. Image courtesy of Wikipedia. Recent stories of mine include ‘The Wind off the Clyde‘ and ‘Alder, Beech, Hawthorn, and Hazel‘.
Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com and tweets at https://twitter.com/mjrichardso0
Good morning folks,
A busy few weeks have meant that I’ve neglected WordPress, but I’m pleased to be back with a couple of salt-encrusted haiku.
Continue reading “Bob and Billow | Haiku”Good morning folks,
I was out in my garden this week when a skein of geese flew overhead. The sight always reminds me of The Book of Merlyn in T. H. White’s The Once and Future King and Lyo-Lyok the goose talking to Wart on the mudflats about freedom and war. White was a passionate bird watcher and his enthusiasm is apparent in what is a beautiful piece of writing. The slim ‘v’ in the sky provided the inspiration for this set of haiku.

Bustle
Bustle, bill, and honk.
Restlessness on the mudflats.
A glance, a stretch, flight.

Beat
A white-fronted front,
Chevroned against the turquoise.
Wings beating northbound.
Things I’ve read this week…
Chris Hall’s ‘The Facility‘ microfiction series is a wonderfully dark and twisted dystopian tale. She is not new to keeping her readers hooked through these series, with each snippet having its own narrative arc within the wider story. She makes us feel the white tiles and dull chrome of the The Facility. She makes us smell the disinfectant and hear the echoes in the long, stark corridors. Wonderful stuff.
Chris Terrell’s commentary on choice of subject for sketching is a lovely insight on an artist’s process. I had a look through Chris’s work and loved it.
*Thanks for reading, folks. Images courtesy of Wikipedia and Pixabay.*
Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com and tweets at https://twitter.com/mjrichardso0