Two Poems

Glosa on a Haiku by Basho

Can't sleep—my broken—
leg in a boot—
no comfortable position.
It's not like anything

I've known—the opposite
of sex—100% in
the body—no ecstasy.
They compare it to

luck. Idioms are fickle.
But the night is cool
and prone I can see
the summer moon.

Glosa on a Haiku by Issa

Wagonloads of clouds
hurry west—
the bonfire gutters.
Autumn evening:

neither here nor there.
We wear sweaters,
hunker closer,
knees in arms,

each word we speak
a flower
full of blessings,
like a saint.

—Athena Kildegaard, Morris, MN