All this happened, more or less.

What mesmerizes me the most in Gary Hotham's haiku is his work with space and time. Everything is so real, you can almost feel the lacunae in the sky, in the water, in somebody's tracks left in the sand, in the autumn itself. I already posted some of his haiku in this journal, but here's some more from his little book "breathmarks". I wonder how that would be in Russian...


fog.
sitting here
without mountains

time to go -
the stones we threw
to the bottom of the ocean

this summer night -
she lets the firefly glow
through the cage of her fingers


outside the door
daylight
waits

to hear them
walking more slowly -

leaves falling

early in the night -
the stars we can see
the space for more

stalled car.
foot tracks being filled
with snow

trough
tall grass taller weeds
her feet wet
her legs wet


через
высокую траву высокие васильки
у нее на ступнях роса
у нее на ногах роса