Too Much Haiku

I'm trying to create Christmas cards. It didn't seem right, to send traditional snow-and-fireplace cards from Japan, and I can't find the Japanese equivalent of a box of Christmas cards. (I think they're bought individually here, like birthday cards, not sent en masse.) So I'm making my own --- we'll see how successful my attempt is. Similarly, I came up empty from a Google search for traditional Japanese poetry with a theme of happiness suitable for the inside of a holiday card, so I decided to try to write one of my own. Perhaps this was a mistake; haiku are, apparently, revoltingly easy to write badly, and I can see why. Suddenly, every stray thought suggests itself in 17 syllables ("Crumpled grocery list, I see you and I wonder: what did I forget?"). But, you know, I made these things, and misshapen or not they belong to me. And since this is the repository of all of my random writings, I think they go here. Oh --- haiku aren't supposed to be titled. It probably leads to cheating on the syllable count.




Grey sea meets grey sky,
the waves flash in long white rows:
winter elegance.




Small world, gem glowing
against the infinite dark ---
what is mere distance?




My child is singing ---
forget the cold rain, blue mood.
We embrace; she laughs.




Joy does not leap out
in a shower of fireworks.
It gathers, like fog.




Against the white wall
my friend's painting, luminous ---
a memory jewel.




Here it will not snow.
But breathe the joy of winter,
the wind from the sea.




Indiana shrieks
as if she sees the world's end.
I'm tired. I love her.




A flash of bright fins,
sleek golden scales, still water ---
joy reveals itself.